The Village
by Clare
Summary: In an alternate Europe called the Great European Republic, a class of students from the British and Irish State learn that they have been selected for the Program, which has been imported from the Republic of Greater East Asia. Imprisoned in the village which has been chosen as the battleground, they must now compete in a game which only one of them can survive.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Students remaining: 36_

Sophie Clarke (Girl #11) gazed out of the bus window and sighed. If the rest of the trip was going to be like this, she would sooner turn round and go home; at least it would be better than spending the weekend hiking through the pouring rain. It had started raining heavily shortly after the bus left Parkwood Comprehensive School and it hadn't let up since. "Good thing I packed my anorak," she said to her neighbour, Benita Wright (Girl #18). "Looks like I'll need it."

Benita and Sophie had been friends all their lives, having grown up in adjacent streets. Physically, they were very dissimilar - Sophie was slim, fair-haired and blue-eyed, whereas Benita was a slightly plump black girl - but that had not stopped them from bonding over their dolls when they were three years old. Now, thirteen years later, they were still friends and they planned to remain so for the rest of their lives. They even had matching silver pendants which proclaimed this fact, two small discs etched with the words: _Friends Forever_.

"It might stop before we get there," said Benita, who was a natural optimist. She opened her hold-all and pulled out two packets of crisps. "Want a snack?" she asked, offering one of the packets to Sophie.

Sophie took the packet (prawn cocktail flavour) and opened it, as Benita opened her packet of ready salted. As the two friends sat munching their crisps, Sophie gazed round at the other thirty-four students on the bus.

Across the aisle from herself and Benita sat Shane Grantham (Boy #9) and Daljit Sandhu (Girl #9); there had been rumours lately that there was something going on between those two. But, if there was, it would be a while before they deposed Michael Walker (Boy #3) and Lauren Hunt (Girl #1) as 11G's Number One Couple. The pair in question were in the seat second from the back in the same row Sophie and Benita were in and they hadn't stopped holding hands since the bus left.

At the very back were the members of the nearest thing Parkwood had to a gang: Devon O'Hare (Boy #2), Liam Selby (Boy #6), Adam Martin (Boy #8), Daniel Gifford (Boy #13) and Theo McKenzie (Boy #17). These five were rarely seen apart and had been quick to commandeer the back seat, much to the dismay of their form tutor, Mrs Holton, who thought they were the rowdiest boys in the class and put at least one of them in detention every week. Earlier, she'd had to put a stop to their horseplay by threatening to make them move to the front of the bus where she could keep an eye on them.

The warning seemed to have had an effect because Sophie hadn't heard a sound from them since. In fact, she realised suddenly, the whole bus was strangely quiet. If you got thirty-six teenagers together in a group, they invariably made at least _some_ noise no matter what sanctions any adults present threatened them with. But all the noises which usually accompanied a party of students on a school trip had disappeared, replaced by the sound of . . . snoring? Sophie turned to Benita to confirm it and saw her friend slumped in her seat, fast asleep. The packet of crisps she had been eating moments before had spilled unnoticed over the floor.

And it wasn't just Benita. Shane and Daljit were asleep in their seat across the aisle, as were Jonathan Hill (Boy #7) and Antony Cartwright (Boy #12) in the seat immediately in front of Sophie and Benita. In fact, Sophie realised with growing alarm, everyone on the bus (at least those in her immediate vicinity) seemed to be asleep - and she was feeling tired herself, even though it was only three o'clock in the afternoon according to her watch. What was going on here? It was almost as if there was some sort of gas coming through the bus's air-conditioning system. Maybe if she closed the vents above her seat . . .

She did so, but it didn't seem to make a blind bit of difference. If anything, she felt more tired than she had before. And she was also frightened; something told her she had to get out of here fast. She reached forward and shook Benita by the shoulders. "Benita!" she called. "Benita, wake up! We've got to get out of here!"

Benita did not respond, except to grunt in her sleep. Sophie realised it was up to her; she was the only one who could get everyone out of this. Luckily, she and Benita were sitting right under the emergency hammer which was used to break the windows in the event of an accident. It was all she could do to stay focused long enough to climb out of her seat, apologise to Benita as she trod on her foot and reach towards the hammer. Or where the hammer should have been . . .

Because, directly under the sign that said: _Emergency Use Only_ there was . . . nothing. The hammer which should have provided her with a means of escape was missing. It was risky to jump out of a moving vehicle, but she would rather take her chances doing that than end up falling asleep like her classmates. She could not explain it, but something told her that no good could come of this. For one thing, why would they gas everyone for no apparent reason? And why would they remove the emergency hammer? It was almost as if someone didn't want any of the thirty-six students to escape.

That was the last coherent thought Sophie had before she too was overcome by the gas and slumped to the floor. The bus, bearing its unconscious passengers, continued on its way, heading down narrow country lanes. Only the driver, wearing a mask to protect himself from the gas he had released, knew its final destination. And he also knew that thirty-five of the students on the bus would never see their families again.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_Students remaining: 36_

Sophie had just had the most peculiar dream.

She had dreamed that she and her classmates were going on their school trip when someone (the driver perhaps) gassed them via the bus's air conditioning system, causing everyone to fall asleep. And she had also dreamed that she had tried to escape, only to find that she was unable to do so. But where was she now? She had barely opened her eyes, but she was awake enough to know that she was not in her own bed back home. And nor was she in the Youth Hostel she and her classmates were supposed to be staying in. In fact, she was sitting in a chair, but that was all she knew.

She looked around and saw all her classmates also seated in chairs which had been arranged in three rows of twelve. Boys on one side, girls on the other and a corridor down the middle. She was sitting between Molly Fisher (Girl #10) and Amy Young (Girl #12), both of whom were still asleep. In front of her she could see the auburn hair of Charlotte Evans (Girl #5) and, glancing behind her, she saw Dani Andrews (Girl #17) who looked as though she was just waking up.

As were several of the others. Sophie could hear their confused voices as they came to and struggled to make sense of what had happened to them. The last thing any of them remembered was falling asleep on the bus . . .

"What's going on?" asked Deepak Patel (Boy #4) whom Sophie knew to be a keen skateboarder.

"Where are we?" That was Jayne Parsons (Girl #2). "This doesn't look like a Youth Hostel!"

"What happened?" demanded Aidan Jeffries (Boy #1).

"How did we get here?" Sophie recognised the voice of Katelynne Moss (Girl #4) asking the question that was on everyone's minds.

"And what's this thing on my neck?!" Christina Cunningham (Girl #16) cried. Christina was sometimes prone to hysteria, but her words prompted several of her classmates, including Sophie, to check their own necks. The "thing" in question proved to be a metal collar that had been fitted around each student's neck and adjusted so that it stopped short of throttling him or her. Sophie felt all over her collar until she found what felt like a clasp; however, it proved to be impossible to open.

What was going on here? First she and her classmates had all been knocked out with sleeping gas on what was supposed to be a school trip. And, the next thing they knew, they had all woken up in a strange place with metal collars around their necks. Had they all been kidnapped and, if so, why? And was there any way to escape? While Sophie was pondering these questions, the door to the room she and the others were in opened and a middle-aged man walked in.

* * *

The man was probably around 5' 6", but he had the commanding presence of someone much taller. His smart suit informed Sophie that he was some kind of official and his brown hair was thinning on top. His eyes were a pale grey colour, almost as though all the colour had been drained out of them, and his thin lips looked as though a sincere smile had never crossed them. As he mounted the stage in front of the assembled students, Sophie had a feeling that this was someone you crossed at your peril; there was something about him she couldn't quite place, something sinister.

The man cleared his throat. "Well, now that you're all awake, welcome to this year's Program."

Shocked gasps greeted the last word as, one by one, the thirty-six students realised why they were here. The Program was an idea which the Government of the Great European Republic had imported from the Republic of Greater East Asia; every year, a class of students was randomly selected and taken to a secret location where they were given three days to fight to the death until only one of them remained. Each of the ten States which made up the Great European Republic took it in turns to send a class and this year it was the turn of the British and Irish State. Sophie was aware of the Program's existence - no-one was ever allowed to forget about it - but she had never expected that her class would be the one chosen. After all, how many schools did the British and Irish State contain?

The man held up his hand to appeal for silence. The muttering which had erupted among the students died down immediately, allowing him to continue speaking. "Right, first things first," he said. "I am Mr Osborne, your instructor for the Program and it is my job to go over the rules. Number one: you are here for one purpose only - to kill each other."

The students exchanged uneasy glances, each of them wondering the same thing. Would they have to kill their own friends? Or would their friends kill them? Sophie could not imagine a scenario where she and Benita might kill each other, but the very nature of the Program meant none of the students in the selected class could completely trust any of the others.

"Number two," Osborne went on. "The Program will take place in a village, the population of which has been evacuated in preparation. Each of you will be issued with a map of the village. You are not to go beyond the boundaries defined on that map or the collars around your necks will explode, killing you instantly."

"Number three: your collars will also explode under the following circumstances - if you enter a forbidden zone or if you attempt to remove them. The collars all contain tracking devices linked to a central computer in this building. Any attempts to force them off will be detected instantly, as will the presence of any living students in a forbidden zone. Number four: every six hours, at twelve and six o'clock, I will announce which zones are about to become forbidden and the times at which that will happen. So check your maps and, if you are in a forbidden zone, you must get out by the allotted time. These announcements will also include a list of who has died within the past six hours."

"Number five: there are currently no forbidden zones. However, twenty minutes after the last student has left, the village hall, which is where we are now, will become forbidden. So don't hang about. Number six: as you leave, each of you will be issued with a pack containing your map, as well as food, water and a randomly selected weapon. What weapon you end up with is entirely a matter of luck, but I will warn you that not all of them are useful. And number seven: you have three days in which to do what you have been brought here to do. If a winner hasn't been determined by the end of the third day, the collars of all the remaining students will explode. The same thing will happen if twenty-four hours pass without any deaths. So, one way or another, it's kill or be killed. Is that clear?"

The students, most of whom were too shocked to speak, nodded mutely.

* * *

"Right! Any questions?"

Osborne sounded like a teacher who'd just been giving a lesson, not someone who'd just been telling thirty-six teenagers that they would have to kill each other. For several seconds, no-one moved; it was as if the thought of having to murder each other had shocked everyone into silence. Presently, however, Kieran Francis (Boy #10) raised his hand. "Why do we have to do this?" he asked once Osborne had acknowledged him.

"Because the Government says so," Osborne replied curtly.

"Well, maybe I don't want to do what the Government says," Kieran shot back. "I don't see why kids have to kill each other just because of some stupid law! The whole Program is a load of crap!" Shocked gasps greeted the last word; to criticise the Program was considered treason and Kieran was in a perilous situation already.

Osborne produced a gun from under his jacket and fired a single bullet in the direction of a nearby notice board. The bullet hit the clip art picture of a teddy bear which decorated a notice giving the times for a mothers and toddlers group, pierced the cork tile and lodged itself in the plaster. "That will do," Osborne said sternly. "It was because of disrespectful attitudes like yours that the Government imported the Program. It was felt that it was the most effective way of teaching young people to obey orders, even if those orders were to kill their peers. It makes no difference whether you want to do it or not. So let's hear no more dissent from anyone - or the next bullet I fire will be aimed at someone's head!" He left the students in no doubt that he was not joking.

Another shocked silence followed before Daljit timidly raised her hand.

"Yes?" Osborne said, still holding his gun.

"What about our parents?" Daljit asked, giving voice to the question on all the students' minds. As she spoke, she thought of her parents and younger sister, Jasvinder, who thought she had gone on an ordinary school trip, when she and her classmates had instead been thrust into a scenario where they would be forced to kill each other. Part of her hoped she would wake up and find that the whole thing was a bad dream, but something told her that wouldn't happen.

"They have been informed of your selection for the Program. However, they have not been told of your whereabouts and you will not be able to contact them, as all phone and Internet connections in this village have been cut. And, in case any of you think you can use your mobile phones, you will find that your signals have been jammed. In short, you have no means of contacting the outside world."

It was Sophie who asked the next question. "What happened to Mrs Holton?" None of the students had seen their form tutor since before they were gassed and many of them, Sophie included, had an uneasy feeling about this.

"She had served her purpose." There was an edge to Osborne's voice which let the students know what had happened to Mrs Holton without him actually spelling it out. It was the same thing which happened to the teachers of all the classes chosen for the Program, though it was considerably more painful if the teacher objected to his or her class's participation. "So your headmaster will have a vacancy to fill," Osborne added with the same edge to his voice.

* * *

With no further questions, Osborne got down to business. "I am now going to go over the procedure for leaving this building," he explained. "Each of you has been assigned a number from 1 to 18; your current seating arrangements correspond to those numbers. I will now call your names in numerical order. You will then step forward to receive your packs, after which you will leave the building via the main exit. Your departures will take place at two-minute intervals and there is to be no hanging around."

With that, he pulled out a list and began to call out the names of the students assembled before him. "Boy #1: Aidan Jeffries."

Aidan got up from his seat and stepped forward. Osborne handed him one of the thirty-six packs piled on the stage and pointed him in the direction of the exit. This ritual was then repeated every two minutes, alternating between male and female students.

"Girl #1: Lauren Hunt."

"Boy #2: Devon O'Hare."

"Girl #2: Jayne Parsons."

"Boy #3: Michael Walker."

"Girl #3: Abigail Wells."

Sophie watched as her classmates stepped forward, received their packs and left to face whatever awaited them outside. As she did so, she tried to gauge how they might be feeling; most were clearly frightened, though a couple of the boys tried to hide it behind a cocky swagger that tried to convince everyone they were tough. Gradually, the front row emptied until eleven students had departed. Sophie glanced at the clock on the wall; it was just after half-past-nine, though the thick black blinds on the windows made it impossible to tell if it was morning or night. In any case, it was at around this point that something districted her.

Yasmin Hussain (Girl #6) had just received her pack and was on her way out when two loud bangs were heard outside. Gunshots, Sophie realised with horror - one of her fellow students must have found a gun in his or her pack. And whoever it was must have been prepared to use it. Already, with two thirds of the students still to leave, two of their number were dead or at least seriously injured. She thought of the students who had left already, wondering which two had been shot and who had done the shooting, but, before she had time to run through their names in her mind, Osborne called the next name as if nothing had happened.

"Boy #7: Jonathan Hill." Jonathan stepped forward, received his pack and left, following in the wake of twelve other students.

And the departures continued. Lucy Foster (Girl #7), Adam Martin (Boy #8), Maria Underwood (Girl #8) . . . It was 9:52 by the time Osborne called:

"Girl #11: Sophie Clarke."

* * *

Before she went up to the stage, Sophie turned to Benita, sitting at the end of the row behind her. "Meet me outside," she whispered, leaning as close to her best friend's ear as she could get. She could not arrange a specific place as she did not yet know the layout of this village and the students had been ordered not to hang around outside the village hall. It would have been easier had Benita's number come immediately after her own, but several other students separated the two girls. In any case, Benita barely had time to nod before Osborne called Sophie again.

"Girl #11: Sophie Clarke, on the stage immediately!"

Sensing that it would be wise to obey, Sophie got up and made her way to the stage. Osborne handed her a pack from the now depleted pile and directed her towards the exit. As she made her way outside, Sophie felt her heart hammering as she imagined what might happen to her in this deadly game. Would she make it all the way to the end? What would it be like having to kill her own classmates? Did she have one of the packs which contained a decent weapon? Those questions and more circulated through her mind as she headed in the direction of the exit.

When she reached the exit, a guard in uniform stepped aside, allowing her to leave the building. As soon as she was outside, he positioned himself by the door once more; Sophie supposed he was there to keep any students from re-entering the building, though it would shortly be forbidden to them anyway. Osborne had said that, twenty minutes after the last student (namely Benita) had left, it would become impossible for anyone wearing one of those metal collars to go near the village hall without blowing themselves up.

With that in mind, Sophie decided she had better get going. The village hall stood in the corner of what appeared to be a recreation green, with a row of cottages to the north. It was night time - it had been impossible to tell until now, what with the thick blinds on the windows - but the moon was full, allowing Sophie to see where she was going. She did not want to hang about, not when two of her classmates had been shot already; whoever had fired that gun could still be lurking nearby. Even the fact that there had been no shots since did not ease her fears.

She began to make her way across the green, heading in the direction of the cottages to the north. One of those cottages might provide her with shelter, but she would have to be careful. There were several other students out there, any one of whom could kill her and she didn't yet know what weapon was in her pack, so she couldn't be sure if she would be able to defend herself. And, as she reached the edge of the green, she saw something which reminded her how vulnerable she was.

Two of her fellow students lay dead on the ground. Taking her torch out of her hold-all, she knelt down for a closer look; these had to be the students who were shot earlier, but who were they? They turned out to be Lauren and Michael, Parkwood's Number One Couple, the ones who had held hands on the bus, eliminated already. There was, Sophie noted, a small hole in both their heads, the sort of hole made by a bullet. And Lauren was holding a handgun in her right hand.

Sophie could imagine what had happened. Not only had Lauren and Michael been a very intimate couple - there were even rumours that they had already "done it" - their numbers had been close together. And, if Sophie knew Lauren, the latter would not have wanted Michael to die at the hands of anyone else. So, having discovered the gun in her pack, she could have shot him, then turned the weapon on herself rather than face this nightmare without him. Unless Michael had shot himself first and Lauren had then taken the gun and put a bullet through her own head. Either way, it meant at least one of the pair had committed suicide.

In any case, neither of them had any use for the gun now, so Sophie slowly eased it out of Lauren's dead fingers.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_Students remaining: 34_

Yasmin had taken refuge in a cottage at the end of the same row towards which Sophie was heading. Having found the door unlocked - clearly the Government had not even allowed the people who used to live here to lock up after themselves - she had gone in and now sat in the dark sitting room. She dared not risk putting the light on in case it attracted the attention of one of her fellow students, none of whom she could trust now. So she sat on the sofa, her feet tucked under her body, waiting for midnight when the first announcements would come. Not only did she need to know who had died - she had heard the gunshots which killed Lauren and Michael, but had not found their bodies - Osborne had warned that certain zones would become forbidden after a time and she needed to be prepared in case she had to leave at a moment's notice.

A sudden noise startled her and she was on her feet in an instant. "Who's there?!" she called, her voice trembling as she brandished the "weapon" she had found in her pack. This had proved to be a single knitting needle - well, Osborne did say the weapons were random - and, while she could stab someone with it, she doubted it would do much damage. Unless she could hit a vital organ . . .

The intruder stepped forward, silhouetted by moonlight; it was difficult to tell if they were male or female, not that it mattered when everyone was a potential enemy. "Get back - I'm armed!" Yasmin shouted, hoping desperately that the intruder would believe her. With any luck, they might even be someone else who had ended up with a useless (or nearly useless) weapon, in which case, Yasmin was safe - for now.

Suddenly, a single gunshot rang out and Yasmin felt a sharp pain in her belly. She felt backwards onto the sofa, still holding her knitting needle like the weapon she had pretended it was. Her attacker calmly walked over to her and fired two more shots at point-blank range; the bullets slammed into Yasmin's body and, seconds later, her knitting needle fell to the floor as her blood soaked through her shirt.

Joseph Walker (Boy #18) waited until Yasmin's moans had ceased before he stashed his pistol back in his pack and turned to leave. He had come across her purely by chance, having planned to take shelter in the same cottage, but could not pass up the opportunity to take her out. Every class which was selected for the Program seemed to feature at least one kid who was prepared to win at all costs, even if it meant shooting kids whose supplied weapon was something useless. Joseph was one such student; as far as he was concerned, it was now dog-eat-dog, kill or be killed. It made no difference to him that he had been sitting near Yasmin on the bus just hours ago.

* * *

Vijay Kapoor (Boy #14) crouched in the doorway of the village shop, hoping no-one would come this way. If they did, he had no idea how he was going to defend himself; he'd already checked his pack by the light of the torch his parents had bought him for his trip and the closest thing to a weapon he'd found was a pouch of darts. And they wouldn't do much good if he came up against anyone armed with a gun. He'd already heard shooting tonight, while he was waiting for his number to be called and again only a few minutes ago. He had no way of knowing who the victims had been, but he would find out at the midnight announcement.

Vijay thought about his family, especially his younger sister, Indira. They had squabbled at times, as siblings do, but he had always looked out for her. It was hard to believe he might never see her, that he might never even hear her voice again. If only there was some way he could contact her . . . But there wasn't. He had already tried his mobile and, as Osborne had warned, there was no signal.

He was thirsty, but he was also the sort of person who stuck to his principles, so breaking into the shop and helping himself to a can of Coke was out of the question. That meant he would have to drink some of the water he had been supplied with at the village hall, now out of bounds to everyone wearing one of those wretched collars. He could always refill his bottle in one of the empty houses; after all, it wasn't stealing if it was only tap water. He opened his pack and reached inside to feel for the litre bottle he had been supplied with, only to yelp and withdraw his hand seconds later.

He had caught his hand on something sharp, one of the darts that were supposed to be his weapon, and the point had pierced the flesh at the base of his thumb. Almost immediately, he started feeling dizzy; he was the sort of person who fainted at the sight of blood. But he told himself to calm down, that it was only a minor wound and all he had to do was cover it with a tissue and wait for it to stop bleeding. But, even as he reached into his pocket with his uninjured hand, he felt himself beginning to slip away.

The darts in Vijay's pack contained a poison so lethal that anyone whose skin was pierced by one of them would be dead within minutes. He thought he had received one of the useless weapons, but, as he had just learned to his cost, he had not.

* * *

Christina could feel her heart hammering in her chest, as if it sensed that it might soon be permanently stilled. Her instinct was to run, but there was nowhere she could run; Osborne had said that, if any students tried to go beyond the bounds of the village, their collars would explode and . . . It was too sick to think about. She couldn't die yet; there were so many things she had wanted to do. Get her ears pierced, "go all the way" with a boy, see Emma (her baby sister) grow up . . . Now all she had to look forward to was being hunted down and killed by her own classmates. She knew most of them probably didn't want to do it, but none of them had any choice in the matter.

What was more, not only could she not leave the village, she couldn't even contact the outside world. Her mobile phone was useless, the signal blocked. She was on her own, faced with thirty-five potential killers. No, less than that; she had found the bodies of Lauren and Michael as she left the village hall and she had heard more shooting only a few minutes ago. That meant there was someone out there who was prepared to play this sick game, someone who was actually murdering their own classmates.

And how long would she last in this game? She had already checked her pack and knew she was one of those who had lucked out as far as weapons were concerned. Her "weapon" was a piece of netting, which might be useful for entangling her opponents, but that was about all. Her only chance of surviving, unless she could get her hands on a proper weapon, was to keep away from her opponents and she wouldn't even be able to do that for long. At present, only the village hall was off limits, but, as the Program progressed, more and more forbidden zones would be added. Thus, the number of areas the students could enter without blowing themselves up would decrease and, assuming she even lasted that long, that meant she would not be able to avoid the others forever.

For now, Christina kept moving, not daring to stop for more than a few minutes at a time. She had to rest again, but she told herself to keep going. There was a bus shelter nearby; built out of red bricks, it was where the village's hourly bus service had stopped before the Government commandeered the village as the battleground for this year's Program. Since she dared not risk taking shelter in a building for fear one of her fellow students might be lurking inside, ready to kill her, this was her best chance of finding somewhere to snatch a few hours' sleep.

She approached cautiously, not even daring to call out to ask if anyone was there. If there was and that person was armed . . . Before she could think about what that would mean, the light of a torch shining in her face suddenly dazzled her. Seconds later, while she was still trying to clear her vision, someone grabbed her from behind and slipped a wire noose around her neck.

Christina struggled to break free, but her assailant was too strong. Slowly, as the wire cut off the air to her windpipe, she sank to her knees, gasping for the air that was being denied her. Still her attacker continued to tighten the wire, causing it to cut into Christina's neck - until Christina ceased her struggling and went limp, never to move again. The Program had claimed its fifth victim.

* * *

Lana Matthews (Girl #13) removed the wire from around Christina's neck, then called out to her accomplice, the student whose torch had dazzled Christina. "It's OK - she's dead."

There was a rustling in the bushes and Eleanor Holmes-Wilson (Girl #14) emerged, carrying a torch. She and Lana had left the village hall within minutes of each other and had met up by chance at the edge of the recreation green. At first, neither of them had been sure what to do, but they had eventually decided to team up and try to take out a few of their fellow students. It wasn't like they had a choice, not when Osborne had said everyone would die if there were no kills for twenty-four hours. Even though Lauren and Michael had already fallen, that would not be enough; all but one of the students must die and they must do it within three days.

In any case, Lana and Eleanor had teamed up and Eleanor was now shining her torch on their victim to see who it was. "It's Christina," she said, trying to contain her revulsion at the sight of Christina's face, distorted by the recent throttling. The marks from Lana's garrotte were clearly visible on the dead girl's neck.

Lana leaned closer to see for herself. No emotion registered on her face as she took in the sight of the student she had just killed. "Good," was all she said. "She was a wimp anyway. Let's get out of here."

But Eleanor could hardly tear herself away from Christina's corpse, appalled by what she had just seen. Lana had strangled the girl lying at their feet and she, Eleanor, had stood by and let it happen. But she had not had much choice. Had her pack come equiped with a gun of some description, she might have been able to shoot Lana in the back of the head before Christina died, but her "weapon" had turned out to be a box of matches. So there was nothing she could do except go along with Lana's plan, which had involved them lying in wait for one of their fellow students, Eleanor shining her torch in that student's eyes, Lana grabbing their temporarily blinded victim and throttling them to death. Of course, this plan would only work with another girl or one of the smaller boys; one of the bigger boys would have been too much for them.

"Ellie, come on!" Lana called, her words cutting through Eleanor's train of thought.

And Eleanor tore herself away from Christina's body and followed Lana, trying not to think of the fact that she had been an accessory to murder.

* * *

As the hands on her watch both pointed to twelve o'clock, Sophie, who had been dozing on someone's sofa, was woken by Osborne's voice.

"Good evening, everyone," he said, though it was unlikely any of the students would have considered this particular evening "good". The knowledge that any one of them could be killed at any moment hung over all of them. "It's time for our first announcement," Osborne went on. "But where to begin?" He then answered his own question with: "I know, we'll start with the first deaths."

Sophie listened carefully. She already knew Lauren and Michael were dead, but she did not know who else had died in the time that had passed since she found their bodies. She had heard gunshots coming from somewhere nearby, but had no way of knowing who the victim was. And not every student would be armed with a gun; there were bound to be few knives and blades around, such as the cutlass she had found in her pack, as well as other weapons that did not make any sound. So she listened as Osborne announced the names of her fallen classmates.

"First on the list is Girl #1: Lauren Hunt," Osborne informed the students. "Then we have Boy #3: Michael Walker, Girl #6: Yasmin Hussain, Boy #14: Vijay Kapoor and, last but by no means least, Girl #16: Christina Cunningham. An excellent start, everyone, but don't get complacent. Remember, there are still thirty-one of you."

"And now for the forbidden zones. Zone 23 will become forbidden at 3:00 AM, followed at 5:00 AM by Zone 14. So check your maps and, if you are in either of those zones, you must get out as quickly as possible. Because you know what will happen to anyone who gets caught in a forbidden zone."

With that ominous warning, the announcement ended. Sophie, who had had the presence of mind to draw the curtains across the window of the cottage she had taken refuge in (not to mention barricading the front door with a chest of drawers) switched on the light and pulled the map out of her pack. It showed the village marked out in a grid pattern which measured six squares across and seven down, making forty-two squares in total. Using a set of felt-tip pens she had found in a drawer, she had already coloured Zone 7 (where the village hall stood) red to indicate that it was forbidden. Now, she did the same with the two new forbidden zones: the bottom left corner of the recreation green and a short stretch of the main road out of the village.

Sophie studied her map closely. The cottage where she had taken refuge was in Zone 1, right in the top left hand corner and directly behind the village hall. That meant she would be trapped if Zone 2 ever became a forbidden zone. She would have to leave before that could happen, head for one of the other zones and hope she met up with Benita along the way. She remembered telling Benita to meet her, but she had not dared to hang around outside the village hall, especially when she knew it would become a forbidden zone twenty minutes after Benita's departure. Benita could be anywhere in the village, but at least Osborne's announcement had confirmed that she was alive - for now.

* * *

Sophie decided the safest way out of the cottage was round the back. So, gathering her belongings (the stuff she had brought from home, plus the pack she had been supplied with and the red felt-tip) together, she prepared to leave. She slipped her cutlass into her belt so she would be able to defend her if she had to, stashing the gun she had recovered from Lauren's body in her pack, along with a box of bullets which she had found in Lauren's pack. That meant the handgun must have been Lauren's weapon; she had checked Michael's pack as well, but found no weapons, although she had found . . . an elastic band.

An elastic band. Was that supposed to be his weapon? If it was, it must have been someone's sick idea of a joke. After all, what could you do with an elastic band? Ping someone in the eye with it? Still, Osborne had warned that not all the packs came with a decent weapon, so Michael must have ended up with one of the duds. In any case, he was dead now, as were Lauren and three of the others. Sophie thought about Yasmin, Vijay and Christina and, though she had not been friends with any of them, she felt a pang of sorrow at the thought of their deaths.

She remembered Yasmin, who had left the village hall just as Lauren and Michael died; Vijay, who had always stuck to his principles; Christina, who had been prone to hysteria and would almost certainly have cracked anyway if she had survived beyond the first couple of hours . . . All of them were dead now, though she had no way of knowing how they had died, other than that at least one of them had been shot. Osborne's announcement had only included the names and numbers of the dead students.

But Sophie quickly dismissed thoughts of her dead classmates; nothing could bring them back and maybe they were better off out of this sick game anyway. She pushed open the back door and stepped outside, planning to escape by climbing over the garden fence. From there, she would leave the row of cottages (which extended across Zones 1, 2 and 3) via their back gardens, climbing over fences until she reached the end of the row. She did not know where she would go from there, though it hardly mattered; the whole village was dangerous. If she entered a forbidden zone, her collar would explode. And, if she entered one of the zones that were currently safe, she risked coming into conflict with her fellow students. Speaking of her fellow students . . .

Sophie had barely set foot in the dark garden when someone grabbed her and pressed a machete against her throat.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

_Students remaining: 31_

Sophie could not believe she had been so careless as to not consider the possibility that someone might be hiding in the back garden. Whoever was currently holding a machete to her throat must have reached this cottage ahead of her, gone inside, walked straight through it and hidden in the garden, hoping one of their fellow students would do what she had planned to do. She had barricaded the front door to keep out intruders, but she hadn't even thought about the back and that oversight could be very costly indeed. There were thirty other students out there, any one of whom could be her killer.

Unless she killed them first. Sophie had no idea who had attacked her, but, if her theory was correct, it must be one of the students who had left before her - minus Lauren, Michael and Yasmin, all of whom were already dead. Whoever it was, she would have to take them out before they did the same to her. Grateful for the fact that her attacker was preoccupied with her throat and had left her arms free, she reached into her belt and pulled out her cutlass. Not allowing herself time to think about what she was doing, she thrust the curved blade deep into her assailant's stomach.

There was a groan and the person attacking her fell back, moaning in pain. Sophie pulled her cutlass free and thrust it into her attacker again, and again, taking advantage of the element of surprise, determined to make sure the person would have no chance to use their machete against her. Finally, to make absolutely certain, she slashed her attacker's throat.

Sophie waited until she had got her breath back, before taking her torch out of her hold-all and switching it on to see who had just died at her hands. Long auburn hair, hazel eyes staring sightlessly up at her . . . It was Charlotte, the girl who had sat directly in front of her at Osborne's briefing. Sophie knew Charlotte well; she was 11G's Form Captain - or rather she had been. Now, she was dead and it was Sophie who had killed her, who had stabbed her in the stomach and slit her throat. By the light of her torch, Sophie could see the gaping wound in Charlotte's neck, just above her metal collar.

Sophie's only thought was to get away as fast as she could, to escape from this garden where she had killed one of her fellow students. She had known from the moment Osborne revealed why she and the others were here that something like this might happen, only she hadn't expected it to happen so soon. Less than three hours had passed since she left the village hall and already someone had died at her hands. She was taking part in the Program whether she wanted to or not.

* * *

Someone who most definitely did _not_ want to take part in the Program was Kieran, the only student who had dared to speak out. Osborne's threat to shoot the next person who questioned the Program in the head had silenced him, but he had spent the remainder of his time in the village hall fuming at how unfair it all was. There was no way he was going to kill his classmates! By the time his name was called ("Boy #10: Kieran Francis.") Kieran had decided what he was going to do.

With that in mind, he had checked his map and decided the building which best suited his needs was the village primary school; there was no secondary school in the village, which was why the students had been brought to the village hall. Heading straight for Zone 4 (the zone where the school stood) he had broken into the building and was now in the process of trashing one of the classrooms. He had already pulled out all the drawers and scattered the contents over the floor, knocked over all the desks and chairs, ripped down the flag of the Great European Republic which all schools were legally obliged to display in every classroom . . .

Next, he had done something no citizen of the Great European Republic would have dared to do, unless they wanted to be arrested for treason. He had unzipped his jeans and blatantly, deliberately urinated on the flag crumpled at his feet. As far as he was concerned, he had nothing to lose anyway and he hated the way the Government told everyone what to do, hated the fact that he had been forced into the Program. There was no way he was going to co-operate and kill his classmates, especially not Nicola Black (Girl #15), the captain of the school netball team, whom he had had a crush on for the past year. He had hoped to pluck up the courage to ask her out, but that was before he knew the real reason behind this "school trip". Now he would never have the chance.

Kieran zipped his jeans back up, but he wasn't through wrecking the classroom yet. Suspecting that every building in the village was rigged with hidden cameras, he was going to leave a message to let Osborne know exactly what he, Kieran, thought of the Program. He walked over to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk. Spelling wasn't his strong point, but as long as he could get the message across . . . In large capitals, Kieran chalked the words:

_OZBORN IS A BASTED_

followed by:

_THE GOVAMINT STINKS_

* * *

Kieran stepped back to admire his handiwork, smiling as he read what he had just written. He was especially pleased with his second message; as far as he was concerned, the Government did stink. What right did they have to force kids to kill each other, just because someone had decided that the Republic's youth needed to be kept in line? Kieran had learned about the history of the Republic at school - or, at least, the version the Government wanted him to know. From what he'd been able to gather, the ten States had once been independent countries, but, after a war which left much of Europe in ruins, they had vowed to make sure there would never be another such war. To that end, they had come together, initially as trading partners, but this had evolved into a political union somewhere down the line.

That was how the Great European Republic had been born. Ten States (the British and Irish State, the Iberian State, the Gallic State, the Central European State, the Scandinavian State, the Italian State, the Hellenic State, the Germanic State, the Balkan State and the Baltic State) all ruled by a central Government but allowed a limited amount of autonomy. That in itself wasn't too bad, but the Government had become increasingly controlling over the years, though they always insisted that it was "for the good of everyone" and few questioned them openly. Then, following a series of anti-Government riots involving young people in each of the ten States, came the Clampdown.

Anything deemed "morally corrupting", which meant anything which might encourage youngsters to question the Government, was outlawed; even the lyrics of pop songs were checked for "dangerous" content and, if anything suspect was found, the offending song had to either be rewritten or replaced with an instrumental version. But, in addition to this, the Government, having seen how successful the Program had been in the Republic of Greater East Asia, imported the idea. Soon, students in the Great European Republic were also being made to kill each other and, like their counterparts in the Far East, no-one dared to speak up for them. No-one dared to question the Government's official line that the Program served to teach the students the importance of obedience.

There was no way Kieran was going to co-operate with this sadistic game, especially after he had just sent Osborne a pretty clear message via his trashing of the classroom. But he knew there was no way to escape the Program - except one. The students faced a choice: kill or be killed, but Kieran meant to die on his own terms. It was the only freedom he had left to him and he suspected that Lauren and Michael (whose bodies he had found as he left the village hall) had already taken that option.

Unlike them, however, he did not have access to a gun - his weapon was a wooden club - so he couldn't shoot himself. He considered using his belt to hang himself, but the classroom contained no convenient beams from which he could do the deed. And, as for throwing himself off the school roof, the building was only one storey high, so there were no guarantees that the fall would kill him. Kieran sighed and ran his hands over the collar around his neck, the collar which could potentially kill him.

He had just lowered his hands when a thought occurred to him. Osborne had said these collars would explode under certain circumstances, including any attempt to force them off. Kieran smiled to himself; the collar which had been fitted around his neck to ensure his co-operation in the Program would instead allow him to commit the ultimate act of defiance. Still smiling, he slowly reached up and placed his hands on the clasp which held the collar around his neck.

* * *

Sophie had managed to get clear of the cottages and was approaching the school when she heard an explosion from within, accompanied by the sound of breaking glass. She hurried over to investigate, prepared to defend herself if she had to. The explosion had not been powerful enough to demolish the school, but, when she turned her torch in the direction of the building, she could see that all the windows in one of the classrooms had been blown out, leaving only empty frames.

But what had caused the explosion? Had one of her fellow students found bomb-making equipment in their pack? Or had the explosion been caused by something else, namely someone's collar? If it was the latter, it could only mean that someone had attempted to interfere with their collar in spite of Osborne's warning about what the consequences would be. And that meant he had not been making up that stuff about exploding collars in order to scare the students into co-operating with the Program.

Sophie touched the metal band around her neck, the band which not only had the potential to destroy her, but also monitored her every movement and told Osborne precisely where she was at any moment. That meant, no matter where she went in the village, he would be able to find her and there was no way she could escape from the village as long as she wore the collar. The collar she could not remove without blowing herself up . . .

She was trapped.

* * *

Sophie ended up spending what remained of the night in the village churchyard, crouching beside one of the gravestones. It was not the sort of environment that was conducive to getting a good night's rest, especially when you knew death lay in wait around every corner, but she was too tired to go any further. So she crouched among the graves, keeping a tight hold on her cutlass in case she had to defend herself.

Defend herself - that was how she tried to justify her actions in killing Charlotte. Her life had been threatened and the only way she could save herself was to kill her attacker. She had not known it was Charlotte until she shone her torch on the body of her victim and saw the girl who had been her Form Captain lying there with her throat slashed and stab wounds in her stomach. Even if she had, would it have made any difference? She doubted it; in the Program, everyone was your enemy, so, if someone ambushed you the way Charlotte had done, your best bet was to kill first and ask questions later. All the same, Sophie vowed, she would never knowingly kill Benita; thirteen years of friendship couldn't be destroyed just like that.

Somehow, Sophie managed to doze off, waking to the sound of Osborne's voice making the 6:00 AM announcement.

"Since midnight, two students have died," he informed the remaining youngsters. "Girl #5: Charlotte Evans and Boy #10: Kieran Francis. And here's a quick warning to anyone who thinks I was joking when I said your collars would explode if you tried to remove them. Kieran attempted to do just that and blew himself up in the process. So remember that before you start interfering with your collars. And remember that the same fate awaits anyone who gets caught in a forbidden zone."

"And, talking of forbidden zones," he went on, "the following will be added between now and twelve o'clock. Zone 37 at 7:00 AM, Zone 13 at 9:00 AM and Zone 1 at 11:00 AM. So, if you are in any of those zones, remember you must get out by the allotted times. That is all."

Sophie took out the felt-tip pen she had found the previous night and marked the new forbidden zones on her map. In order of when they would become active, these were a field that was part of the farm which lay to the south of the village, the village's football pitch which was immediately south of the village hall and the area which included the cottage where Sophie had sheltered last night. Already, she noted as she finished colouring in the squares containing the pending forbidden zones, the top left-hand side of the map was looking distinctly red.

"Looks like I made the right decision," she thought out loud. Though her main motivation in leaving the cottage had been the fear of being trapped if neighbouring Zone 2 became forbidden. Her present location, Zone 6, which contained the church and part of the churchyard, was currently safe and there were no forbidden zones immediately next to it. That, however, could change and she knew she had to be ready to move in case Zone 6 was named in a future announcement.

For now, though, she took the time to check out her surroundings; it had been too dark to do that when she left the village hall. The church was one of those that had no steeple, just a square tower with decorative carvings in each corner and a clock face which showed 8:45, even though the current time was just after six o'clock. This told Sophie that the church clock had stopped, though she couldn't be sure precisely when it had stopped; it had been gone nine o'clock before any of the students left the village hall. Most likely, she thought, it had been stopped for some time before she and the others arrived in this village. That meant, the only reliable means she had of keeping track of time was to listen out for Osborne's announcements, which were broadcast to the whole village every six hours.

The churchyard where Sophie had stopped for the remainder of last night was divided into two sections. Most of the older graves with their ornate headstones were at the front of the church, while more modern graves were round the side, in a section which, according to the map, spilled over into Zone 5. Sophie had spent the night by one of the older graves, one marked with an arch-shaped stone nearly as tall as she was. The inscription on the stone was now almost completely illegible, but she could just make out the words:

_Sacred to the memory of_

followed by a name which almost caused her heart to stop:

_Charlotte Evans_

* * *

Sophie almost felt as though this gravestone had been put there to taunt her, to remind her of the Charlotte Evans who had been her classmate - until she killed her last night. But she told herself that was impossible, that the stone had been there for a long time, that it was just a coincidence that the person it commemorated had the same name as one of her dead classmates. According to the inscription, _this_ Charlotte Evans had died in 1876 - or was that last digit an 8? In any case, it was so worn that it was impossible to make out much else.

Sophie turned her back on the grave and turned to walk away, not wanting to stay in this churchyard any longer than she had to. It was bad enough that the place reminded of the mortal danger she was now in, but discovering the grave of someone who had the same name as a girl she had killed just hours ago made it seem even worse. She recalled the moment Charlotte attacked her with the machete, forcing her to fight back with the cutlass. She had been in danger and had reacted instinctively to preserve her life, even though the cost had been the life of one of her fellow students. But she doubted it would be the only time this happened in the next few days. Those in the Program had to choose between being killed and killing others; there was no middle ground, no means of cheating the Program.

Except one, one which Sophie suspected had already been taken by Lauren and Michael. And, when she heard that Kieran had blown himself up by interfering with his collar, she quickly added him to the list of suicides. It made a kind of morbid sense. Kieran had made it clear that he had no wish to participate in the Program; he had even gone so far as to call it "a load of crap". And, knowing the only way he could avoid doing so was to kill himself, he must have tried to remove his collar. That must have been what caused the explosion at the school. Sophie shuddered and vowed to keep her hands off the metal band round her neck from now on.

Just as Sophie reached the church's lych gate, she came across a scene which made her stop in her tracks. A boy was standing over a kneeling girl, pointing an arrow straight at her head.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_Students remaining: 29_

Sophie recognised the boy as Adam, one of Devon's band of troublemakers, the group of rowdy boys who were rarely seen apart. However, it looked as though Adam was on his own this time, though she couldn't rule out the possibility that one or more of the others might be hiding nearby, using large gravestones as cover. She moved forward cautiously, drawing Lauren's handgun as a precaution. It was then that she saw who Adam was targetting, who was only moments away from having an arrow planted in her skull.

It was Benita, the girl who had been Sophie's best friend for thirteen years. Though she would have been well within the rules to walk away and let Adam get on with what he was about to do, Sophie knew she couldn't just let it happen. She couldn't just stand by and let Benita die, not yet anyway. Only one of them could get out of here alive, but she wasn't ready to betray their friendship. She had not yet reached the point where the only thing she cared about was her own survival, the point where the lives of her fellow students no longer mattered. Besides, there was always the risk that Adam might decide to target her next.

With that in mind, Sophie pulled out Lauren's handgun - she was too far away for her cutlass to do much good - and took aim at Adam. She had never fired a gun before and she could feel her hands trembling as she squeezed the trigger. Adam, preoccupied with attempting to shoot Benita, was unaware that Sophie was standing directly behind him, pointing a gun at him. He pulled back the string on his bow, preparing to let his arrow fly - and it was at that moment that a bullet hit him in the back and knocked him off his feet. But the shot did not kill him outright; instead, it left him lying in the gravel, coughing up blood.

Sophie thought Adam was dying anyway, but she wanted to make absolutely sure. She walked over to him and, as he took his last few bloody breaths, speeded his end with a bullet in the back of his skull. Then, she turned her attention to Benita, who was still kneeling on the ground. "Are you OK?" she asked, hurrying over to her friend.

"No! Don't!" Benita shrieked, holding her hand in front of her face as if to shield it.

For a moment, Sophie wondered what was wrong, why Benita was acting this way. It was almost as if she was afraid, afraid of her own best friend. But why? Then, Sophie remembered - the gun. She was still holding it and, in a situation like this, it was natural to be afraid of someone holding a gun, even if that person had previously been your best friend. In this sadistic game, everyone was a potential enemy; it was impossible to trust anyone completely as you never knew when they might decide to turn on you and kill you. But Sophie had no intention of turning on Benita and, to prove it, she slowly lowered her gun.

"It's OK," she said. "I don't want to hurt you." Benita looked at her uncertainly and, just for a moment, Sophie wondered if she was doing the right thing. What if Benita had found a gun in her own pack and was preparing to turn it on Sophie? But, if that was the case, why hadn't she at least tried to shoot Adam?

Before Sophie had time to ponder these questions, Benita scrambled to her feet and ran towards the girl who had been her friend since they bonded over their dolls. "Oh, Sophie! I've been so scared!" And, with that, the two friends embraced, crying tears of relief that they had found each other once more. They might be trapped in the Program, with a guaranteed death sentence hanging over at least one of them, but at least they were together again - for now.

* * *

Retrieving Adam's bow and quiver of arrows but leaving his body still lying on the path, Sophie and Benita left the church (Saint Cuthbert's according to the noticeboard outside) behind and headed into the village's other main residential area. Unlike the area behind the village hall, where the cottages were built in a neat row, these cottages were more spread out and looked as though they had been built at different times. Benita led Sophie towards a timber-framed cottage which dated back to the 17th Century, not that the two friends gave any thought to details like that. All they cared about was finding somewhere to shelter for the next few hours.

They entered through the back door which led into a small kitchen, just large enough to accommodate a cooker, a worktop with cupboards underneath, a cupboard on the wall and a sink. The floor was covered with flagstones and, judging by the flap in the door, the people who used to live here had owned a cat. However, there was no other sign of the animal now, no basket in the corner, no feeding bowls on the floor. This suggested that whoever had owned this cottage before the Government commandered the village had taken their cat with them. But where had they gone? And had they been informed of why they were being evacuated?

Sophie doubted it; after all, the location of each Program was supposed to be top secret and the Government were determined to keep it that way. No-one from outside the Government was allowed to know in advance where the Program would be taking place, other than that it would be within the boundaries of the State whose turn it was to send a class. No doubt the people who used to live her would have been sent letters or received phonecalls, telling them that they had to be out of their village by a certain date but giving no other information. And no-one dared question a Government decision.

Seeing the cat flap reminded Sophie of her own cat, a pretty tabby named Beauty. She remembered the pink collar which Beauty wore, the way she always curled up with her nose buried in her paws, her fondness for ham . . . Before setting off on this so-called school trip, Sophie had stroked her and told her to be good, not knowing that it might be the last time she and Beauty saw each other. And that reminded her of her family, of all the students' families, who would not be informed of what had happened to their sons and daughters until after the Program was over. Already there were eight families who did not yet know their children were dead.

Just then, Benita's voice cut through Sophie's thoughts. "I don't know about you, but I'm starved. Let's get some breakfast."

* * *

Breakfast consisted of some of the rations which Sophie and Benita had been supplied with before they left the village hall: a cheese roll each, washed down with some of the water from the bottles in their packs. It wasn't exactly fancy, but neither of them had eaten anything since they opened their packets of crisps on the bus. And that was nearly sixteen hours ago, which meant it was close to twenty-four hours since they left their homes for what would, for at least one of them, be the last time.

Sophie shook her head in an attempt to banish any thoughts of home and asked Benita what she had been doing last night.

"Well, I was the last to leave the village hall," Benita said. "And, when I got outside, I couldn't find you. I didn't want to hang around because I knew the hall would be forbidden in twenty minutes, so I just started walking and hoped I'd meet up with you. Only I didn't and, when the first announcement came . . ." She paused, then continued. ". . . I wondered if I was going to hear your name. But I didn't, so I kept going until I ended up here."

Benita had been asleep for the 6:00 AM announcement, so Sophie filled her in on the deaths of Charlotte and Kieran, plus the three zones that would become forbidden this morning. Benita then continued.

"I must have woken up just after that. Anyway, I wanted to find you, so I went out to look for you, but Adam was waiting for me. He chased me and . . ." She broke off as she realised this was the point at which Sophie had coming across Adam just as he was preparing to shoot her in the head with an arrow. "Good job you showed up when you did," she added. "Another few seconds and . . ." She pretended to cut her own throat.

"But why didn't you fight back?" Sophie asked. Adam had not been one of the bigger boys in the class; in fact, he had been around 5' 4", the same height as herself and Benita. Nor was he exceptionally strong, so she could probably have taken him down with her cutlass. Except, in the few seconds it would have taken her to run over there, Adam could easily have finished Benita off.

In reply, Benita opened her pack and showed Sophie the "weapon" she had found inside - a cricket ball. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she demanded with a faint touch of bitterness that belied her normally optimistic nature. "Bowl someone out?"

Sophie did not reply, though she couldn't help wondering how many of her fellow students had ended up with useless weapons. She already knew about Michael and his elastic band and now Benita and her cricket ball. There could be any number of students out there who only had ordinary, everyday objects to protect themselves, while others had proper weapons. And that meant Benita, armed with only a cricket ball, wouldn't stand a chance in this game. Unless . . . "Then you'd better stick with me," Sophie said. "After all, what are friends for?"

But, even as she spoke, she heard a small voice in the back of her mind, reminding her that she and Benita had very little time left together. It was all very well trying to protect your friends, but, in a situation like this, there came a point where you had to put your own survival first.

* * *

Sophie and Benita spent the rest of the morning in the cottage. The television wasn't working and nor was the radio - clearly the device which was jamming the students' mobile phone signals was also jamming the TV and radio signals. There were a few CDs lying around, but none of them suited Sophie and Benita's tastes. Besides, playing music was probably the last thing they should do right now. It would be like sticking their heads out of the window and shouting: "Come and get us!"

So they spent the morning exploring the contents of the cottage, everything its former owners had been forced to leave behind. In the process, they began to build up a picture of who used to live here. A couple, probably in their sixties, who had two married children; Sophie found two framed photos, each depicting a different wedding, on a dresser in the living room. But there were no clues as to the identity of this couple; they were just two anonymous people who had been forced to leave their home because the Government wanted to use their village for the Program.

The Program . . . Not only did it force the Republic's young people to kill each other, it also uprooted anyone who happened to be in the way. And they just had to accept it, as hardly anyone dared challenge the Government and those who did faced a stint in a Re-education Centre - if they were lucky. The Government maintained that their policies, while they may seem harsh at times, were "for the good of the Republic", that allowing people too much freedom would ultimately cause society to break down. So it was in the interests of everyone to have a firm Government in charge.

Especially in the case of the young, who could not be trusted to toe the line unless they were guided every step of the way. To that end, everything that might appeal to them was vetted in case it contained "dangerous" ideas, especially if it was aimed at teenagers who, with the waywardness typical of their age group, might begin to question the Government. As Kieran had already started to do . . . Sophie recalled how he had spoken out at Osborne's briefing, saying he did not want to kill his classmates just because the Government said he had to, how Osborne had then threatened to put a bullet through the head of the next person who dared to protest at being forced into the Program. After that, no-one dared speak out, but there was little doubt in Sophie's mind that Kieran had meant what he said, which would explain why he had tried to remove his collar even though he had been warned of the consequences.

"Kieran tried to take his collar off," she remarked, sitting down on the slightly battered two-seater sofa.

"So that's what that explosion was." Benita had heard a loud bang at around one o'clock in the morning, but had had no idea what had caused it. As Sophie had done before Osborne's recent announcement, she had wondered if one of her fellow students had planted a bomb somewhere, but it seemed the bomb which went off had been the one in Kieran's collar. Benita gulped, recalling that everyone in the class had been fitted with these collars; she could feel hers, cold metal against the skin of her neck. "Why did he do it?" she demanded. "He knew it would kill him, so why . . .?"

"I think that's exactly why he did it," Sophie cut in. "He didn't want to play this game and that was the only way out."

The two friends looked at each other. They didn't really want to play this sick game either, but, unlike Kieran (and Lauren and Michael) they were not going to resort to suicide as a way out. Besides, Sophie had killed twice already; Charlotte and now Adam were dead because of her. In an attempt to keep her conscience quiet, she reminded herself that Charlotte had attempted to kill her and Adam had tried to kill Benita. So they had to die - kill or be killed. But it still gave her an uneasy feeling.

"I wonder how the others are doing," she said, trying to change the subject.

* * *

Two more friends who had joined forces were Maria and Molly. Unlike Sophie and Benita, however, their numbers were close together, so it had been easy for them to meet up last night. Since then, they had been holed up inside the cottage next door to the one Sophie had sheltered in last night. They had heard Osborne's announcements and knew seven of their classmates were already dead, though more had probably died in the three hours that had passed since the last announcement. How many and which students had fallen would be revealed at the noon announcement, but Maria and Molly would have to leave the cottage before then, as it was in a pending forbidden zone.

"Hey, Molls," said Maria, a tall dark-haired girl with a fondness for fashion. Like other aspects of their lives, the young people of the Great European Republic were subject to restrictions on what clothing was acceptable for them to wear, but many of them were highly skilled at skirting around the rules. For example, Maria's skirt was short, but it was not so short that it would be deemed "inappropriate" for a girl her age. Right now, however, clothes were the last thing on her mind. "Ready to move on?"

"Yeah, this area'll be forbidden soon anyway." Molly, who had collar-length brown hair, got up from the sofa where she had been sitting. She picked up her weapon, a handgun, from the coffee table and gathered up her hold-all and pack. "Get your stuff together and let's go." Strictly speaking, they did not have to leave Zone 1 just yet as it was not scheduled to become forbidden for another two hours, but it was never a good idea to stay in one place for too long in this game. Even if the area you were in never became a forbidden zone, there was always the danger that you might be found and killed.

So Maria and Molly decided to leave the cottage and move to one of the zones that were currently safe. That, however, risked bringing them into contact with their fellow students and they already knew there were killers out there. So Molly kept a tight grip on her gun, prepared to use it if she had to, as she and Maria left the cottage and started walking towards Zone 2.

Maria followed her friend, even though she was normally the one who took the lead. This time, however, she had no choice but to follow; her pack was one of those that came equiped with a useless weapon. When she opened her pack last night, she had hoped it contained at least a knife - instead, she found a safety pin. A safety pin was the only means she had of defending herself against her fellow students, some of whom had guns. This, of course, included Molly, but Maria felt sure she could trust her best friend not to turn against her, at least for the time being. Inevitably, as the Program progressed, any student who was still alive became fair game, particularly as the three-day deadline approached. When that happened, previous friendships counted for little.

For now, though, Maria and Molly were together. They crossed over into Zone 2 and, from there, elected to cut across the recreation green, carefully avoiding the now forbidden Zone 14, and cross over the road. From there, they would make for Zone 28 which contained several farm outbuildings that should provide them with shelter. At least for a while . . .

But, just as they reached the road, a figure emerged from the bus shelter in which the ill-fated Christina had attempted to seek refuge. They recognised him immediately; it was Joseph, a handsome boy who wore his dark hair a little longer than the teachers liked, and he was carrying a pistol. The look of grim determination in his eyes told Maria and Molly that he meant business.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_Students remaining: 28_

As Joseph levelled his pistol at herself and Maria, Molly knew there was only one thing she could do. She would have to take him out before he had chance to fire; the look of grim determination on his face told her that he was actually playing this twisted game, that he was not pointing his gun at them because they had startled him. That meant he had probably killed at least one of their fellow students already and, unless he was dealt with quickly, he would soon add two more to his list of kills. With that in mind, she raised her gun and pointed it at his chest.

She pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. Or, rather, something did happen, but it wasn't what she thought would happen. There was a click that sounded like it was meant to represent gunfire even though it sounded nothing like it. Then, instead of a bullet, a red flag with the word: _BANG!_ printed on it shot out of the barrel and dangled comically. Molly's weapon was not a real gun at all, but a joke gun designed for comedy purposes. Whoever had supplied the weapons for this year's Program must have a sick sense of humour; "weapons" which were clearly meant to be a joke (such as Maria's safety pin) were bad enough, but supplying a joke weapon which looked real at first glance was even worse. It was as if someone had decided to play a particularly nasty trick on some random student.

As Molly stared helplessly at the flag dangling from her gun, Joseph acted. Before either girl could attempt to tackle him, he fired his pistol, aiming at Molly's chest; struck by three bullets, one of which penetrated her left lung, she fell to the ground, gasping out her life. Maria ran to her side and lifted her head into her lap, staring helplessly at the blood soaking through Molly's t-shirt.

"Maz . . ." Molly gasped, coughing up blood. Maz and Molls were the nicknames she and Maria used for each other. "Run . . . Save yourself . . ."

But Maria didn't move. She knew Molly was dying, but nothing could persuade her to leave her friend now, even though there was nothing she could do for her. Not to mention that Joseph was still hanging around, doubtless to make sure the job was done properly. This was a side of Joseph Walker she'd never seen before; she'd known him since her first day at Parkwood Comprehensive, but she hadn't known he could be so ruthless. The Joseph she knew - or, rather, the one she thought she knew - would never have done this, would never have . . .

Suddenly, Maria realised Molly had stopped gasping, or making any sound at all. A quick glance at her friend, lying with her eyes open and her chest completely still, confirmed her worst fears; there were now nine students on the list of the dead. Maria felt tears pricking her eyes, a scream denying the reality of what she saw rising in her throat. But, before she could release either, Joseph raised his pistol once more, this time aiming at Maria, who was too numb with grief to realise the danger she was in. Seconds later, a bullet through her heart ensured that she would never feel anything again.

* * *

Joseph looked down at the two dead girls lying in the middle of the road, both shot in the chest. He could see the blood staining their shirts, but gave no thought to the fact that both of them had been alive only a few minutes ago. They had been his classmates - he used to sit behind them in English and had done the same on the bus that had brought them here - but, as far as he was concerned, all that had ended when the Program began. He was here to win and that was what he meant to do, no matter what the cost.

He had already taken out three of his classmates, students he had known since he was eleven, without a second thought. Being selected for the Program did that to some students; the moment they learned that they faced an inescapable fight to the death, all sense of reason left them. Some turned into ruthless killing machines, with no thought for their fellow students except to take out as many as possible in the allotted time. Others became unhinged to the point where they feared all their fellow students, even those who had previously been their friends. In both cases, the result was the same: a previously rational young person whose only thought was to kill.

Indeed, if Joseph felt even a shred of remorse for his actions, he did not show it. He continued to gaze at his victims for a few more seconds before calmly tucking the gun which had killed them into his belt. Then, he walked away without looking back at the corpses of his two classmates.

* * *

Sophie and Benita had heard gunshots, but they had no way of knowing which of their fellow students had been on the receiving end, much less who had been doing the shooting. As Benita said, it showed there was at least one other student out there who had found a fire-arm in his or her pack. And whoever it was seemed to be prepared to use it, unless they had fired the gun in self-defence. Somehow, however, Sophie doubted that and that made her uneasy; it meant there was someone out there who was actually playing this sadistic game.

She looked at her own weapons: the cutlass she had found in her pack and the handgun she had taken from Lauren's body. Both had already been used to kill her fellow students, but she had not killed wantonly - yet. The first time, when Charlotte attacked her with a machete, she had killed to protect her own life and the second time had been to save Benita. But, if her hunch was right, it meant at least one of her fellow students was potentially dangerous . . .

No, scratch that. All her fellow students, apart from Benita since she and Sophie had vowed not to use their weapons against each other unless absolutely necessary, were potentially dangerous. Except the ones who had useless weapons and she doubted any of them would last long. Osborne's words echoed in her mind. "What weapon you end up with is entirely a matter of luck, but I will warn you that not all of them are useful." And, if Michael's elastic band and Benita's cricket ball were anything to go by, he had not been joking, any more than he had been joking about the exploding collars.

"Why do they do it?" she wondered out loud.

"Why do who do what?"

"The people running this crazy Program," Sophie replied. "Why do they put things like elastic bands and cricket balls in some of the packs, instead of proper weapons?"

Benita shrugged. "Who knows. Their sick idea of a joke, I suppose." She recalled the moment she had opened her pack and found that the "weapon" it contained was a cricket ball. A red leather ball was the only thing she had to defend herself against students whose packs had come equiped with proper weapons. She wondered how many of her classmates had found themselves in a similar position and how many of those who had were still alive. Already, around a quarter of the students in 11G had fallen, but how many of those students had died because they had been unlucky enough to receive a pack with a useless weapon?

The arbitrariness of it was too awful to think about. Fortunately, Benita was now in a slightly better position than she had been last night. Not only had she met up with Sophie again, she now had a proper weapon of her own, the bow and arrows which Sophie had recovered from Adam's body. Of course, she hadn't actually attempted to fire it yet, but she had been practising fitting the arrows to the string and was beginning to get the hang of it. The trouble was, the three-day limit meant there would be no time for her to really get to grips with using the bow; all she could do was hope that, if and when she had to use her weapon, luck would be on her side.

* * *

"Sophie," Benita ventured at length, "what's it like killing someone?

Sophie hesitated, wondering where to begin. How did you explain what it felt like to know that you had taken another life? How did you describe the feeling of knowing that someone was dead as a direct result of your actions? It was surprisingly simple to do, but not so easy to put into words how it felt. "It's hard to explain," she said finally. "I feel bad that I had to kill Charlotte and Adam, but I didn't have a choice." And, she added silently, if she hadn't killed Charlotte, she, Sophie, would not have been there to save Benita from Adam's arrow.

Of course, the situation had been different each time. Her fight with Charlotte had taken place in a dark garden, which meant it had been impossible for her to see who she was fighting - until she switched on her torch and saw the girl who had been her Form Captain lying there with her throat slashed. Slashed by the cutlass which now lay on the coffee table in front of her . . . In Adam's case, however, she could see who she was shooting, but she hadn't hesitated to do what she had to do to save her friend. In both cases, though, the result had been the same; one of her fellow students had died at her hands. And she had a feeling Charlotte and Adam would not be the only people she ended up killing in this twisted game, that she would have to kill again sooner or later.

But not Benita, she vowed. Never Benita - unless she was fatally injured and had to be put out of her misery. Sophie did not even want to think about what might happen if it came down to the two of them, did not want to consider how they would decide which of them should live and which should die. Besides, she knew the odds were still against either of them making it that far.

* * *

Eleanor was beginning to regret teaming up with Lana. The two of them had hardly paid attention to each other before; their personalities were different and they had different interests. So, despite being in the same class, they had not come into contact very often and, as a result, they knew very little about each other. But, thanks to the fact that they had been assigned consecutive numbers in the Program, their departures had been so close together that it was easy for them to meet.

At first, Eleanor had gone along with Lana, hoping the two of them might be able to protect each other for a time. It was only after Lana outlined her plan to dazzle one of the other students so that she could sneak up on them and throttle them with her garrotte that Eleanor realised the truth; Lana was actually prepared to murder her fellow students and she had no qualms about forcing Eleanor to help her. But, by then, it was too late. Eleanor was afraid that, if she even tried to escape, Lana would come after her with the garrotte and do to her what she had already done to Christina. The dismissive attitude Lana had shown after learning who she had killed told Eleanor all she needed to know; Lana Matthews was a dangerous ally and an even more dangerous enemy.

Since Lana's trick of dazzling their fellow students only worked when it was dark, she had devised a new plan for use during the day. It was fiendish simple. She had climbed a tree growing by the side of the road and was now hiding among the branches, holding her garrotte in her hands. "You see anyone yet?" she whispered to Eleanor, who sat in a neighbouring tree, keeping watch for any potential victims.

"No," Eleanor replied, hoping against hope that Lana would decide this whole plan was a waste of time. But she had a feeling that Lana would not rest until she had made at least one more kill and it was only by co-operating with Lana that she could postpone the moment when she would become that kill. After witnessing Christina's death, there was little doubt in Eleanor's mind that Lana meant business. And now she was planning to lure a fellow student into a trap - if anyone was gullible enough to fall for it. Eleanor scanned the road again, hoping she would not see anyone, but, at that moment, she saw a solitary figure standing in a nearby field.

Had she been brave enough to defy Lana, Eleanor might have pretended she couldn't see anyone. But she wasn't and that meant she had no choice but to go along with Lana's plan no matter how much it sickened her. She quickly flashed a thumbs-up signal to Lana, then quickly looked away as Lana began to put her scheme into operation.

"Help! Help me!" It sounded as though Lana was genuinely in distress, but that was just an act, an act to lure the student in the field into her trap. She was a keen actress, a member of Parkwood's drama club; now, she drew on all her talents to convince her intended victim that she was in trouble. Of course, there was always the risk that her intended victim might see through the ruse or that he (as far as Lana could see, it was a boy standing in the field) might be armed with a gun of some description. If so, he might take herself and Eleanor out before she had chance to spring her trap, but she had no time to worry about that right now.

* * *

Deepak paused as he heard the cries. It sounded as if one of his fellow students, a girl judging by the voice, was in trouble and his instinct was to try and help her. But, then, he hesitated, remembering where he was and why he was here. It could be a trap; whoever was calling for help might have a whole gang of fellow students lying in wait, ready to kill anyone who responded to her cries. Apart from anything else, it was dangerous to be calling out like that; there was no telling if you might end up attracting an enemy. The cries came again.

"Please! Someone save me!"

That decided it. Deepak was going over there, but not to see if he could help; there was no sense in helping this girl when, whether she was an enemy trying to lure him into a trap or a potential ally who was genuinely in trouble, he might end up having to kill her anyway. He was going to try and put a stop to her cries, by killing her if necessary. It wasn't a pleasant thought, but that was how this game worked. You were supposed to kill your classmates while trying to avoid having your classmates do the same to you.

Deepak gripped the weapon he had found in his pack. A short steel spike called a siangham, it looked pretty sharp, but he had not had chance to test it yet. Even so, it should allow him to defend himself against any sneak attacks by the girl - unless she was planning to shoot him. In any case, he kept hold of the siangham as he ran in the direction of the cries, prepared to use it if he had to; if this turned out to be a trap, he would not hesitate to thrust the spike into the skull of the one who had lured him here. One way or another, there would be another name on the list of the dead when Osborne came to make his noon announcement.

* * *

When he reached the spot the cries had been coming from, Deepak slowed to a standstill and looked around, still gripping his siangham. Something wasn't right here. The girl who had been calling for help should be nearby, but he couldn't see anyone. That, however, didn't mean there was no-one around; he had heard her cries clearly and she had had no time to flee. He took a cautious step forward and that was when he heard the cries once more.

"Over here! Hurry!"

The cries were coming from a tree which stood a couple of yards to Deepak's left. He headed over there to investigate, frowning as he noted that there did not appear to be anybody here. He was certain this was the direction the cries had come from, but he could see no sign of the person who had been calling for help. Had he imagined it? Or was he walking straight into a trap? Seconds later, he received his answer as Lana jumped out of the tree, quickly looped her garrotte around his neck and began to pull it tight.

Deepak struggled to break free - he had dropped his siangham when Lana ambushed him and needed to retrieve it in order to defend himself - but Lana's only response was to call out for assistance, assistance she genuinely needed this time. "Ellie! Help me hold him still!" And the next thing he knew, Eleanor, a somewhat bookish girl who wore her brown hair in a pony tail, had jumped on him from a neighbouring tree and was helping Lana to pin him to the ground. Had he been faced with only one of the pair, he might have been able to escape, but the combined weight of the two girls was too much for him. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a bird flying on the horizon.

Lana continued to tighten her garrotte until she was certain Deepak was dead. Then, she removed the noose from his neck and went to retrieve his siangham, which she tucked into her belt; no sense in letting a good weapon go to waste and she wasn't about to risk giving it to Eleanor. There was only one person she could trust here - herself. She would keep Eleanor alive for the time being, but she wasn't going to risk being stabbed in the back.

Eleanor took a lingering look at Deepak, lying by the road, throttled to death as Christina had been. Then, she reluctantly followed Lana away from the body of their victim.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_Students remaining: 25_

Amy was constantly on the alert for her fellow students, any one of whom could become her killer, as she crossed from Zone 11 to Zone 10, the location of the village shop. She been holed up in one of the houses in Zone 11 for the last few hours, but she was now on the move again. She had no particular reason for moving - this area wasn't scheduled to become a forbidden zone - but she was a naturally restless person and couldn't stand being in one place too long.

A little before ten o'clock, the inactivity had proved too much for her and she had left the house she had taken shelter in, even though she knew she was putting herself in danger by doing so. The "weapon" in her pack had turned out to be a corkscrew, useful for opening wine bottles but not much use if you found yourself confronted by someone armed with a gun. And Amy knew there were guns out there, though she had no way of knowing how many. So she kept constant watch for the others; if she saw any sign of movement, she was going to try and make a run for it, which would hopefully allow her to get back to her sanctuary without being spotted.

Just as she reached the shop, Amy spotted something lying in the doorway. A pile of rags, she thought at first, probably left behind when this village was evacuated. But, when she got closer, she saw what it really was: the body of one of her fellow students, slumped in the doorway with a pack lying open nearby. It was Vijay, who had, she recalled with a pang of regret, once had a crush on her and kept trying to pass her notes in lessons. The trouble was, she was dating someone else at the time and Vijay had eventually given up on her and started dating Katelynne.

Now, he was dead, another fatality of the Program, though she could not tell how he had died. There was no sign of any gunshot or stab wounds, he hadn't been strangled and his skull had not been bashed in. In fact, he seemed to be completely uninjured except for a single cut on his hand, but that couldn't have killed him. Unless whatever had caused the wound was poisoned . . . Amy recalled that, after each Program ended, the bodies of the dead students were collected up and examined to determine how they had died. This information was announced on the news; pictures of each student were shown, together with a caption such as _gunshot wound, strangulation, stab wounds . . ._ But, until the game ended, the corpses were left where they had fallen.

Amy knew there was nothing she could do for Vijay, but she wanted to at least move him from the shop doorway. She grasped him under his arms and began to drag him until he was lying on the pavement a few yards away. Not very dignified, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances, though she did take the time to close his eyes. Then, just as she was taking a final look at the body of the boy who once had a crush on her, she sensed a movement behind her.

* * *

Amy turned just in time to see Jordan Burns (Boy #11) on the verge of putting a meat cleaver through her skull. She dodged out of the way and pulled out the corkscrew that was meant to be her weapon; it might not do her much good, but at least she might be able to wound Jordan before he killed her. She held the corkscrew in front of her, the screw part exposed and ready to stab him, as he gripped the meat cleaver he had found in his pack. Both students had only one thought: to kill the other.

"What's the matter?" Jordan taunted. "Afraid to die?" He was one of the smaller kids in 11G, but he was also one of the most spiteful and never had a good word to say about anyone. And it looked as though he had decided to participate in this game where he and his classmates had to kill each other, even though his size would put him at a disadvantage against some of his opponents. His height was just over 5' 3", two inches shorter than Amy, and there were boys in the class (such as Joseph) who were already close to six feet tall. The tallest girls were Lana and the now deceased Yasmin, both of whom were 5' 9".

But, regardless of his height, it was clear that Jordan had the advantage in terms of weapons; that meat cleaver looked like it could do some serious damage. All Amy could do was keep hold of her corkscrew and try to fight back as best she could. Even if he did end up hacking her to bits, she wanted to inflict at least one wound on him first; that way, no-one could say she hadn't tried to save herself. With that in mind, she made to stab him with the corkscrew, but Jordan was too quick for her. He dodged her easily, then knocked her to the ground.

Jordan sat astride Amy's chest, smirking to himself at the look of fear in her eyes; it was the same look he had seen in the eyes of the younger kids when he bullied them into giving him their lunch money. "Well now," he said, trying to ignore her attempts to force him off, "what bit of you shall I chop off first?"

Amy's only response was to spit in his face as hard as she could. He calmly wiped the saliva away with his sleeve and continued to taunt her. "You know, I think I did pretty well with my pack. Did you know my dad's a butcher? And did you know I was thinking of following him into the trade? Of course, I might not get out of here alive. But, just in case I do, I'm going to practise on my opponents. Starting with you . . ."

He was certainly enjoying himself, Amy noted. So much so that he was beginning to let his guard down, which, along with the fact that she was slightly heavier than him, might give her an advantage. Making the most of her chance, she pushed him off her, then pinned him to the ground, feeling a certain satisfaction at the look of terror on his face. Her younger brother, Matthew, was among the kids Jordan had bullied and now it was payback time. She gripped her corkscrew tight and, before he had chance to attack her with his meat cleaver, thrust the point into the fleshy area of his throat, just above his metal collar, and slowly started to turn it.

Jordan died with Amy's corkscrew in his throat, but Amy only outlived him by a few minutes. Just as she realised he was dead, she was hit in the back by a bullet. She slumped forward, sprawling across the body of the boy she had just killed, as her assailant walked towards her and finished her off with a second bullet, one fired directly into the base of her skull.

* * *

Abigail stood over the two most recent corpses with a revolver in her hand. Her game plan had been to stalk her opponents and shoot them from behind, but she hadn't had much luck so far. Everyone was too aware of the need to watch your back at all times in this game; even if you were teamed up with someone, there was no telling when they might decide to turn on you. So shooting an opponent from behind proved to be easier said than done, but Abigail was determined not to give up. She knew the alternative was to shoot her fellow students face-to-face and she could not bring herself to do that. She could not look into the eyes of someone who had been her classmate, then callously murder them.

Eventually, however, she had come across someone kneeling over a body. The person had their back to her, so she couldn't see who it was, but this was an opportunity she couldn't afford to miss. Without a second thought, she had killed the person and she now moved closer to see who it was she had shot. Trying to ignore the bullet wounds she had inflicted, especially the one at the base of the skull, Abigail turned her victim to face her.

Short blonde hair, grey eyes staring sightlessly, heart-shaped face . . . It was Amy, the girl who had sat next to her on the bus. Abigail and Amy didn't normally hang out, but they'd been the last to arrive and therefore had no choice but to sit next to each other. During the journey, they had not said a word to each other; Abigail, who had the window seat, sat watching the scenery go by, while Amy had her nose buried in a book. At least until the gas was released, after which they woke up in this nightmare. But perhaps it was just as well she and Amy hadn't really known each other, Abigail reflected; it would only make this harder than it already was.

Every dead student brought her closer to getting out of here. That was how Abigail justified the fact that she had killed one of her classmates, that she had pointed a gun at someone and fired it in the knowledge that the person she was shooting would die as a result. Besides, it wasn't like Amy was an innocent victim; from the look of things, she had just killed Jordan with a corkscrew, of all things. Abigail could see it sticking out of his throat like a small flagpole. She debated whether to pull it out, but decided against it; she had no use for a corkscrew. Nor did she have any use for Jordan's meat cleaver, not when her strategy was to shoot her opponents from behind.

She slowly turned her back on her dead classmates and walked away to search for more victims.

* * *

Harry Edwards (Boy #16) was a keen amateur boxer. He had already competed in several bouts at his local boxing club and had been thinking of turning professional once he was old enough. Which would probably never happened now, he thought ruefully as he looked at the pair of boxing gloves he had found in his pack. Clearly, they were meant to be his weapon, but they wouldn't be much use against opponents armed with guns and knives. With that in mind, Harry had hidden in the barn which stood in Zone 29; if none of his fellow students ventured here and this zone never became forbidden, he might just make it.

It was a slim hope, but, without a proper weapon, it was his only chance. He couldn't stop thinking, however, that fate must have been in an ironic mood when he received his pack. Why else would he, the kid who loved boxing, end up with a pair of boxing gloves? Especially in a situation where they would be worse than useless? He knew he wasn't the only one, that others had ended up with useless weapons as well, but he couldn't help thinking it was just his luck that he should find the thick padded gloves in his pack. Every time he looked at them, he was reminded of his dreams of being a professional boxer, dreams he might never be able to fulfil.

Right now, however, Harry had more important things to worry about. He had been in the barn for several hours by now, having found his way here some time after the midnight announcement, and nature had been calling for some time. Necessity finally drove him out of the barn, though he dared not go too far, just round the side of the building. He should have picked the side nearest to Zone 23, which had been forbidden since 3:00 AM, so that no-one could sneak up behind him, but he didn't. He simply went round the side of the barn, unzipped his jeans and began to relieve himself against the wall.

Harry had just finished what he was doing when a short spear with a rope attached to one end suddenly lodged itself in his back. He gave a low grunt, then sank to the ground, a look of complete disbelief etched on his face as his life slipped away. His strength failing, he imagined the referee from one of the boxing matches he had competed in standing there, counting out loud. If he could get to his feet before the referee counted to ten, he would be all right. He would not be out of the running.

"One, two, three . . ." Harry recognised the voice, but not from one of his boxing matches. It was Osborne, the man who had briefed everyone when they first woke up here, who had outlined the rules for this sick game. "Four, five, six . . ." Harry remembered the trophy he had won only two weeks ago, the first addition to what he had hoped would become a shelf full of silverware. "Seven, eight, nine, ten." Now there would be no more trophies, no chance that he might one day turn professional. Just the indignity of lying on the ground with a harpoon in his back and his jeans unzipped.

And Harry Edwards, amateur boxer and student at Parkwood Comprehensive School, threw in the towel for good.

* * *

At the same moment Harry lay dying from being harpooned in the back - by Aidan, though Harry never knew this - Craig Willis (Boy #15) was being "entertained" by Dani in one of the cottages in Zone 3. It was right next door to the cottage where Yasmin had died, but that was the last thing on Craig and Dani's minds. They had met up by chance and their first instinct had been to draw their weapons - until Dani had a better idea. Knowing Craig was the sort of boy who couldn't resist a pretty girl (and she was one of the prettiest in the class) she had told him that she didn't want to die without, in her words, "knowing what it was like to be with a boy". And Craig, who had fancied Dani for some time, happily went along with it, not suspecting what her real motives were.

Now, as she and Craig lay on someone's bed in the aftermath of their love-making, Dani began to put the next phase of her plan into operation. Careful not to wake him, she slipped off the bed and went over to where her pack lay on the floor next to her scattered clothes. Opening it, she took out her kukri, a curved dagger with a sharpened inner edge; this was the weapon she had received at the start of the game and she had been saving it for just such a moment.

Still naked except for her metal collar, she made her way back to the bed, kukri in hand. "Seems a pity really," she thought out loud as she looked at Craig lying there, completely oblivious to what she was about to do. Like a praying mantis or a black widow spider, Dani was going to dispose of the male with whom she had recently coupled. As had been her plan all along . . . Smiling, she placed the inner edge of her dagger against Craig's throat and pressed down, slicing through the flesh and severing his windpipe, ensuring that his sleep became permanent. She watched him for a few minutes to make sure, then, once she was satisfied that he was dead, she calmly began to dress herself.

Before she left, Dani took one last look at Craig. He almost looked like he was sleeping, lying there with his eyes closed and his head resting on the pillow. Only the wound in his throat betrayed the fact that this was a sleep from which he would never awaken. Dani smiled to herself; this game might require her to kill her classmates, but Osborne hadn't said anything about not having a little "fun" with them first.

* * *

Osborne, monitoring the students' progress from the village hall, was pleased with how things were going. Already, fifteen students were dead, leaving twenty-one still in the game. There was a map identical to the ones with which the students had been issued on his desk, marked with X's to indicate where each of the fallen students had been when they died. This information would be passed on to the clean-up teams at the end of the Program to allow them to locate and recover the bodies. In the meantime, Osborne added four more X's to represent the four students who had died most recently, two in Zone 10 and one each in Zones 3 and 29.

Next, he checked the cameras which had been installed all over the village. There were no fights going on at the moment, but it never hurt to check up on the students once in a while. Apart from anything else, it gave him a chance to see if any of them were doing anything the Government might consider subversive, though so far only Kieran had attempted any kind of rebellion. Osborne had checked the camera installed in one of the classrooms at the village school and had seen Kieran trashing it. A completely futile exercise which only served to prove that young people needed to be kept firmly in line.

And then there were the messages Kieran had written on the blackboard. _OZBORN IS A BASTED_ and _THE GOVAMINT STINKS_. The kid couldn't even spell, but, if any of the other students had seen those messages, it might have encouraged them to attempt a rebellion. However, just minutes after writing them, Kieran had deliberately attempted to remove his collar, blowing himself up in the process. Though, since Kieran was clearly a troublemaker, Osborne had been on the verge of detonating his collar anyway. In theory, the instructor for each Program could detonate any student's collar at any time, but this rarely happened in practice.

As he finished checking the cameras, Osborne noted that the clock on the wall showed 11:59. He waited for the minute to tick over, then switched on the microphone in front of him and spoke into it. "Hello, my fine young protegees. It's twelve o'clock and you all know what that means . . ."


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_Students Remaining: 21_

"The following students have died within the past six hours."

Osborne's voice could be heard clearly in the living room of the cottage where Sophie and Benita were holed up, projected through hidden speakers which had been installed after the usual occupants left. Sophie wished there was some way she could shut it off - she hated the callous indifference with which Osborne read out the names of the dead students - but she decided it wouldn't be a wise move. Aside from anything else, she and Benita needed to hear the announcements in order to know if their current location was going to become a forbidden zone, meaning they would have to move on. So she forced herself to listen as the names of the dead were revealed.

"Boy #4: Deepak Patel, Boy #8: Adam Martin, Girl #8: Maria Underwood, Girl #10: Molly Fisher, Boy #11: Jordan Burns, Girl #12: Amy Young, Boy #15: Craig Willis and Boy #16: Harry Edwards." Sophie and Benita listened to the grim recitation in silence, not allowing themselves to think about the possibility that one or both of them might be mentioned in the next announcement, a threat which hung over all the students. They knew about Adam, of course, but they had no way of knowing who else had died - until now. And then there were the two girls, Molly and Amy, who had sat on either side of Sophie at Osborne's briefing; both of them were dead now, as was Molly's best friend, Maria.

"So I make that eight dead students," Osborne's voice continued. "That's more than the first two announcements combined, so well done, everyone. But don't go away . . ."

"Like we've got a choice," Sophie muttered under her breath, her arms folded across her chest.

". . . because I am now going to reveal which zones will become forbidden between now and six o'clock. First, at 1:00 PM, Zone 18." Sophie and Benita looked at each other; they were currently in Zone 18 and this meant they had a hour to get clear. No, less than that if you took account of the time Osborne's announcement took to make. "Next, at 3:00 PM, Zone 33. Finally, at 5:00 PM, Zone 4. I'm pleased to say no-one has been caught in a forbidden zone so far, but you all know what will happen to anyone who is. So, until six o'clock, goodbye."

* * *

As Osborne's announcement ended, Sophie and Benita hurriedly gathered their belongings together. With Zone 18 due to become forbidden shortly, they could not afford to linger; if they did, their collars would transmit a signal to the computer in the village hall and they would suffer the same fate as Kieran. Whether an attempt to force them off or the wearer being caught out of bounds caused the collars to detonate made no difference; the result was the same.

So urgent was the need to get out that Sophie didn't take the time to colour in the squares which indicated the pending forbidden zones on her map. Instead, she drew a red X on each square; she would colour them in properly later, if she had time. Meanwhile, she and Benita had to get out of the cottage that had been their sanctuary, knowing the number of safe zones was decreasing with every announcement. Already, nine zones were off limits, or scheduled to become off limits, to the students and more would be added as the game progressed. Eventually, depending on how long it took for all but one of the students to die, something close to half the total number of zones could become forbidden.

But Sophie and Benita had no time to worry about zones that might become death traps in the future. What mattered was that their current location was within the zone that was next on the danger list and that meant they had to get out by 1:00 PM. So, having gathering their belongings together, they left the cottage and started walking, keeping their weapons ready in case they ran into any of their fellow students. They couldn't see anyone, but there was no sense in taking chances when faced with a situation like this.

"Where to now?" asked Benita, as she and Sophie walked along the empty road. The scene looked disturbingly ordinary, a village street in early summer with neat lawns in front of the houses, one of which had roses growing round its front door. A child's pink bicycle lay on its side in another garden, abandoned when the village was evacuated in preparation for the Program. But neither of them could forget the reason they were here; the collars around their necks were a constant reminder and they were also the reason they had to get out of this area.

"Dunno," Sophie replied. Nowhere in the village was 100% safe. Every time she and Benita were forced to move in response to Osborne's announcements, they ran the risk of running into one or more of their fellow students, some of whom were actively participating in this insane game. But, given the choice between certain death as a result of being caught in a forbidden zone and the possibility of death at the hands of one or more of their own classmates, they agreed they would sooner take their chances. At least it meant they had a chance of taking an opponent or two down with them.

Eventually, they decided to cross into Zone 17, then into Zone 16, from which they could cross the road that separated the main village from the farmland to the south. It would have been easier if they could have crossed from Zone 17, but the stretch of road it bordered was in Zone 23 which had been forbidden since 3 o'clock this morning.

* * *

Unknown to Sophie and Benita, they had had a neighbour in Zone 18. Lucy had found her way there on the first night and had spent nearly fourteen hours holed up in one of the cottages, with nothing to do except wait for Osborne's announcements and add new names to the list of the dead. Already close to half the class had fallen and more would inevitably follow, though she had hoped to escape by hiding and waiting out the game. Unfortunately, this kind of tactic was the very reason for the existence of the forbidden zones; it would be too easy otherwise for a student to win simply by being the last one alive. And, if too many students hid instead of fighting, the whole game would grind to a halt.

So the fact that any zone could become forbidden at any time meant none of the students could assume that their current location would stay safe. Forcing them to keep moving kept them on their toes and, as the number of safe zones decreased, made conflict more likely. In short, the moment Lucy heard Osborne announce that her current location would become the next forbidden zone, she had realised she would have to rethink her whole strategy.

And then there was the matter of the weapon she had found in her pack. It wasn't something useless like an elastic band or a safety pin, but nor was it something that could be used in a direct confrontation with another student. It was a set of five pressure-sensitive landmines, each one containing enough explosive to take a person's legs off. Taking advantage of the fact that the front garden attached to "her" cottage was mostly gravel, Lucy had hidden the mines in the hope that anyone who planned to kill her would trigger one of them and end up, at the very least, severely maimed. Now, however, she would have to get out of here and leave her mines behind. If she had had time, she could have tried to deactivate them (she had also been supplied with an instruction booklet explaining how to do this) and taken them with her into the next zone.

Of course, there was no guarantee that she would be able to plant her mines again once she got there. But all that was academic, since she had less than an hour to get clear. And the mines would not be much use once this area was forbidden; anyone who put so much as a toe inside Zone 18 after 1:00 PM would blow themselves up long before they stepped on a mine. In any case, Lucy had no choice but to leave as quickly as possible and hope she might be able to scavenge a weapon from one of the dead students. It was just as she was wondering if she would be able to do this without getting killed herself that, accompanied by a loud explosion, she suddenly went flying in a shower of burning hot gravel and metal. In a moment of inattention, she had stepped on one of her own landmines, triggering the trap that was meant for her fellow students.

Coming to her senses, Lucy sat up, surprised to find that she seemed to be all in one piece . . . Wait, that wasn't quite true. There was something missing and, when she looked down at herself, she realised what it was. Her left leg was unharmed, but her right leg . . . There was nothing left of it below the knee, just a bleeding stump where there had once been a shin, an ankle and a foot ending in five toes. Lucy looked helplessly at the mangled remains of her leg, feeling physically sick at the site of it; this, combined with the fact that she was already feeling nauseous from the pain of her injury, led to her losing her last meal.

Afterwards, Lucy remembered something. She could not recall precisely why - the pain from her leg was so overwhelming that it kept her from focusing properly - but she knew she had to get out of here quickly. The trouble was, with her leg in this state, there was no way she could run or even walk. All she could do was drag herself along with her arms and hope she made it to the next zone in time. She could not explain why, but she knew something bad would happen if she stayed here.

Bit by painful bit, Lucy, who had once dreamed of being a professional dancer, began to drag herself away from the cottage where she had fallen victim to her own trap. As she pulled herself along, unable even to crawl, she repeatedly told herself: "I've got to make it . . . I've got to make it . . ." But she could already feel her strength leaving her.

* * *

Sophie and Benita stopped with a start when they heard the explosion. It seemed to have come from within Zone 18, but the zone wasn't due to become forbidden for another half-hour or so. Had someone just tried to take their collar off? Somehow, Sophie doubted it; true, Kieran had attempted it, but he had made it clear back at the village hall that he wanted no part in this insane game and she suspected he had killed himself because he knew it was the only way he could avoid having to participate. It seemed unlikely that any of the other students would resort to such a desperate means of escape which meant, if it had been someone's collar exploding, there was only one thing that could have caused it. "Osborne," Sophie whispered, voicing her suspicions out loud.

"What about him?" asked Benita, who tried to avoid thinking about their instructor as much as possible. At least when he wasn't making his six-hourly announcements . . .

"Do you think he . . ." Sophie paused, struggling to believe that anyone could show such a callous disregard for human life. "Do you think he set off someone's collar?" She could feel the cold metal of her own collar against her skin and shuddered. If her suspicions were right, it meant any one of the students could be blown up at any moment. Even if they never so much as touched their collars. Even if they steered clear of all the forbidden zones.

Benita shook her head. "Nah, that'd be too easy. He wants to see us fight each other." All the same, she couldn't help thinking about what Osborne had said at the briefing about how, if a winner hadn't emerged by the end of the third day or if twenty-four hours passed without any deaths, all the collars would explode. Something told her he had not been joking, just as he had not been joking about the consequences of trying to remove the collars. Sophie had passed on Osborne's warning from the 6:00 AM announcement.

"Then what _did_ cause that explosion?"

"Dunno. But, unless we get out of here, it'll be _BOOM!_ for both of us," said Benita, spreading her arms wide to indicate something getting blown up.

Sophie found herself thinking about how she had wondered if someone's supplied weapon had been bomb-making equipment and if that was caused the explosion at the school. Of course, she had been proved wrong on that occasion, but that didn't rule out the possibility that one of the packs had contained explosives. She wondered what form the explosives took (Bombs? Dynamite? Landmines?) but then decided it didn't matter. Her main priority at the moment was getting herself and Benita out of Zone 18 before it became forbidden.

* * *

Sophie and Benita were almost out of the soon-to-be-forbidden zone when they came across someone lying on the pavement. Since the only people in the village were themselves and their fellow students, they knew it had to be one of their classmates, though they could not yet tell who it was. When they got closer, however, they saw that it was a girl, a girl who had flame red hair. And, since 11G only had two red-headed girls, one of whom was now dead, they knew there was only one person this could be. And it looked as though she had been badly hurt.

"Lucy," Sophie said, kneeling beside her injured classmate. "Lucy, are you OK?" She knew some basic first aid, but something told her Lucy's injuries were in a whole different league to what she had covered in the after-school course she had taken once.

Lucy groaned and struggled to sit up. "Sophie?" she managed to say, her voice hardly more than a whisper. It was then that Sophie noticed that the lower half of Lucy's right leg was missing, leaving only a stump which, she noted with some horror, had left a trail of blood on the pavement. It looked as though Lucy had lost her leg somehow, but, perhaps remembering that this area was about to become forbidden, attempted to crawl to safety. But the pain and the blood loss must have proved too much, causing her to collapse.

"What happened?" Sophie asked urgently. Time was running short; this zone would soon be forbidden and any living students caught inside its boundaries after that point faced certain death. "There was an explosion just now."

"Stepped on a . . . landmine," Lucy managed to say. "My supplied . . . weapon. I planted . . . five of them. Thought they would . . . protect me . . . Didn't count on . . . this area . . . becoming . . . forbidden . . ."

Benita knelt down beside Sophie, trying to avoid looking at Lucy's maimed leg. "But, if you planted those mines, surely you knew they were there."

"Careless . . ." Lucy grimaced with pain. "Thinking of . . . other things . . . You must . . . get out . . . Save yourselves . . ." She looked at Sophie and Benita, silently begging them to understand. There was no way she could make it out of this zone in time by herself and, if they tried to take her with them, she would only endanger them. There was no room for sentiment in this game, just the grim reality that only one of the players could get out alive. And she instinctively knew that, thanks to the mine injury she had received, she would not be that one. "Please . . ." she added when Sophie and Benita hesitated. "I'm dying . . . anyway . . ."

It was clear that she was in terrible pain; it must have taken all the willpower she had just to make it this far. But she could go no further and, even if Sophie and Benita took her out of the danger zone, she would not survive long anyway. She had lost too much blood and the pain from her mutilated leg was so overwhelming that the tears which she had held back until now began to trace their way down her cheeks. She had reached the point where she could take no more, where the only thing she wanted was for the pain to be stopped by any means necessary.

"Help . . . me . . ." she whispered, looking desperately at Sophie and Benita.

Sophie knew there was only one thing which could end Lucy's pain. It was something which would happen to her anyway if she was still in Zone 18 after it became forbidden. But that was still some twenty minutes away and it was clear from the desperation on Lucy's face that she could not stand another moment of this agony. There was only one merciful course of action. Sophie stood up slowly, placing the barrel of her gun against her injured classmate's forehead; seconds later, a single bullet fired directly into her brain ended Lucy's pain for good.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

_Students remaining: 20_

Quite by chance, three out of the five members of Devon's group had found their way to the same location, namely the village pub. According to the sign outside, the establishment was called The White Horse and the sign was illustrated with a painting of a magnificent white stallion. A blackboard by the door advertised things such as _Sunday Specials_ and _Friday Quiz Nite_. Once, this place had been a popular place for the locals to meet, but they were all gone now and the only people inside were Devon and his friends, Liam and Daniel.

Devon, a mixed-race boy with closely cropped hair, had been the first to arrive, having been only the third student to leave the village hall. He'd taken shelter in the pub so that he could check out his pack and see what weapon he had received; he had no way of knowing what it was, but he hoped it would be something decent. It turned out to be a shotgun, complete with spare ammunition, and he was just thinking it would come in useful for defending himself (Not for murdering his fellow students; he'd never do that. But if his own life was threatened . . .) when he heard a movement outside. Knowing he could not take chances in his current situation, he had taken his gun and stationed himself at the door to the pub.

"Who's there?!" he had shouted, peering into the night but unable to see anyone. However, that didn't stop his imagination from seeing enemies everywhere he looked; it was this paranoia, brought on by the knowledge that any one of his classmate could kill him at any time, that almost led to him eliminating one of his own friends. By the light of the moon, he saw a shape approaching the pub, a shape which looked distinctly human, a shape which could well be armed.

Devon raised his gun. "Get back or I'll shoot you, damn it!" But, moments later, he lowered his gun in response to a familiar voice.

"Hey, steady on, mate." It was the voice of Liam, who had left the village hall sixteen minutes after Devon. Liam was Devon's right-hand man, a dark-haired boy with a fondness for practical jokes. All the members of their clique enjoyed playing tricks, but Liam was especially fond of it; he had even let off a stink bomb in one of Parkwood's corridors once, leaving a smell of bad eggs which lingered for the rest of the day. But, this time, there was an edge of seriousness to his normally carefree voice, hardly surprising given their current circumstances.

"Liam?" Devon said, still holding his gun. "Is that you?"

"Of course it's me, you prat!" Liam stepped forward and, by the light of the moon, Devon was able to see that it was indeed his right-hand man. The two boys immediately decided to team up and they had spent the first night in the village hiding out in the pub, passing the time by inventing elaborate ways to get back at Osborne. Needless to say, these plans were about as much practical use as Kieran's trashing the school, though Liam's idea to superglue a bright pink wig to Osborne's head had some merit in terms of comedy potential.

* * *

Since then, Daniel had joined his friends. He had hidden in the pub's kitchen and was not discovered until Devon and Liam went to see if there was anything edible available; this was one of those pubs which serve food as well as pints of beer. It was fortunate from his point of view that it was his friends who discovered him; everyone else was a potential murderer. With that in mind, Devon, Liam and Daniel made a pledge not to trust anyone except each other - and Adam and Theo if they showed up. However, Adam was now dead - his name had been read out at the noon announcement - and Theo could be anywhere in the village.

"Where d'you think Theo got to?" Daniel asked, swinging his feet up onto one of the tables. It was something his mum was always telling him off for at home, but she wasn't here right now and, as far as he was concerned, that meant he could do as he liked. Of course, there was the "small matter" of the Program, but that was currently the last thing on Daniel's mind.

Devon downed a bottle of beer in one gulp and belched. "If he'sh alive, he'll turn up shoon," he said, slurring his speech. He was not used to alcohol. None of the three friends were, but they had found the pub's main stockroom and, taking advantage of the fact that there was no-one around to tell them they were underage, carried as many bottles and cans up to the lounge area as possible. By now, the tables were strewn with empties and there was broken glass behind the bar. And empty crisp and peanut packets had been carelessly tossed on the floor, with no attempt made to find a bin. The whole lounge area was a scene of utter chaos, not that any of the boys gave any thought to details like that.

Of course, now was the very worst time to get drunk. Devon, Liam and Daniel needed to keep their wits about them in this game; not only did they face attack from their fellow students, Zone 19 (where the pub was located) could become a forbidden zone at any time. It never paid to assume that any zone would remain safe for the duration of the Program and, while Zone 19 had not yet become forbidden, there was no telling what the next announcement would bring. But the three boys were so drunk that they no longer cared about announcements or forbidden zones; even the news of Adam's death barely seemed to have registered.

And, as if all this wasn't bad enough, the three of them had completely forgotten about their weapons; Devon's shotgun lay neglected in one of the upstairs rooms, alongside Liam's axe and Daniel's hunting knife. Fuelled by alcohol-induced over-confidence, they were so certain no-one would bother them that they had let their guard down completely. And that was something you must never do in this game if you wanted to survive.

* * *

"Hey, guys!" Liam shouted at length. "Which of the girls do you fancy?" None of the three friends currently had girlfriends, though they were all at the age where they were becoming increasingly aware of the opposite sex. Liam had had his eye on a girl called Jessica, who was in another class, for a while now; she was tall and blonde, with the sort of backside a boy couldn't help ogling. If he had her here now . . . He sighed and began to fantasize about the sort of things he and Jessica would do together one day, not stopping to consider the possibility that "one day" might never happen.

"Of the onesh who came with ush?" slurred Devon, attempting to drink from another bottle of beer and spilling most of the contents down his front.

"Yes, unless there's someone you haven't told us about." Liam helped himself to another can of lager and opened a packet of ready salted crisps. He remembered how, when he packed his hold-all for what he thought was going to be just another school trip, he had tried to smuggle in a six-pack of beer, only for his mum to confiscate it. And he'd asked his older brother, Darren, to buy it especially.

Devon paused, leaning against the bar, too drunk to stand up unaided. "Well, Shophie'sh a bit of all right," he replied. "Or there'sh Abigail, or Katelynne . . ." Within moments, he was drunkenly extolling the virtues of every girl in 10G, even those who had already been killed. Not to be outdone, his friends responded with similar comments about the girls they fancied, a discussion which was accompanied by a great deal of raucous laughter. There was no telling how long it might have continued had they not been interupted.

It was just as Daniel was bragging about the time he "did it" with Jayne in the alley behind a Chinese takeaway - actually, the most they had done was kiss - that the door swung open and in strode Joseph. He had his pistol drawn, but Devon, Liam and Daniel were so drunk that this fact did not immediately register. Their lack of attention was just what Joseph needed; before any of the three friends could make a move, he opened fire, discharging three bullets into Devon's chest. For a few seconds, Devon remained standing, looking as though he hadn't the faintest idea what had just happened. Then, as the blood soaked through his t-shirt, he fell to the floor.

Even in their drunken state, Liam and Daniel quickly realised what had happened, that the ringleader of the nearest thing Parkwood had to a gang was down. Liam hurried over to where Devon had fallen and tried to help him up. "Hey, come on, man," he urged as he vainly tried to get Devon to stand upright. But every attempt was in vain and a quick examination of Devon's chest revealed why; one of Joseph's bullets had got him right in the heart and that was a wound which no-one could survive. However, Liam barely had time to take in the fact that Devon was gone before a bullet caught him in the head and he ended up slumped over the body of his friend.

Daniel could only look on, numb with horror, as his friends were ruthlessly gunned down. Joseph, he realised, was actively participating in this sick game, this game which turned all your classmates into potential murderers. How many had he killed besides Devon and Liam? Which of the other dead students had also fallen to the gun in Joseph's hand? How many other packs had contained guns? Guns! In a moment of sudden realisation, Daniel recalled that Devon's supplied weapon had also been a gun, a different model to Joseph's, but it might come in handy. If only Daniel could get to it . . . It had been left upstairs, he remembered, but would he be able to reach it?

Staggering somewhat from the effects of all the alcohol he had drunk, Daniel turned to head upstairs. But he did not get far before he was felled by three bullets in the back. Joseph looked dispassionately at his three victims, one dying and two dead, before calmly walking out. Three more easy kills - Devon and his friends had been so drunk they hadn't even realised the danger they were in until it was too late.

* * *

Daniel lay coughing up blood, unable to feel anything below his waist since one of Joseph's bullets had severed his spinal cord. Had he had any chance of surviving, he would have been faced with spending the rest of his life in a wheelchair, as had happened to the girl who won the Program the last time the British and Irish State had hosted it. If anyone asked, she would say her paralysis was the result of a bad car accident, but everyone knew what had really happened, even if they never spoke of it. What happened in each Program was never discussed openly; it was all strictly confidential.

But Daniel's wounds were not survivable. The other two bullets had penetrated his lungs, which was why he was now coughing up blood. Already, he could feel himself beginning to fade and, as he did so, he saw key events from his life flash before his eyes. "Wow! Talk about cliched!" he thought as he lay dying on the floor of a pub, still too young to drink legally.

He saw his parents, himself as a toddler and his little sister, Emily; his earliest memory was of the day she was born. He had been nearly three and remembered little of the previous day, other than that his parents had gone away for some reason, leaving him with his Auntie Fay. But he clearly remembered the phonecall, followed by the trip to the hospital to "say hello to the new baby". His first impression of Emily had been that she was not all that interesting - all she did was cry and make terrible smells - and he couldn't see why the grown-ups were so fascinated by her.

Gradually, however, that had changed. Daniel watched himself and his sister growing up, saw the tiny baby he had first met become a toddler, then a little girl, then a pre-teen. Emily was somewhat inclined to tease, especially if he showed any interest in a girl; she had even greeted the news that Daniel had been seen in Jayne's company with the old rhyme about "sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G". God! What a memory to go out on! Not that Jayne was bad-looking, but, contrary to what he had told his late friends, not to mention what Emily seemed to think, he had never gone as far as he might have liked with her. And, now, he would never have the chance; even if he made a miraculous recovery and went on to win this deadly game, he would still have to lose Jayne along the way.

And Daniel died thinking not of his parents and sister and how they must now face the world without him, nor of his friends and the mischief they had planned to get up to on this trip before they knew its true purpose. He died thinking of Jayne and how, in a moment of drunken bragging, he had claimed their relationship had gone further than it ever had in reality. They had effectively been boyfriend and girlfriend at the time, but neither of them had been ready to "go all the way"; he had simply said they had to impress his friends.

His friends who were now dead. And, as he followed them into oblivion, Daniel's last thought was of Jayne, the girl who had been the subject of a drunken boast. He had kissed her, had even felt her breasts through her top, but that was as far as he had gone with a girl. That was as far as he would ever go.

* * *

Sophie and Benita were in Zone 16 when they heard gunshots, a sound which was becoming all too familiar. And they were only too aware of what it meant: more dead students, more names to be read out at the 6:00 PM announcement. Sophie checked her watch; it showed 2:25. Lucy had died at 12:42, which meant two (possibly more judging by the number of shots fired) students had been killed within two hours of each other.

"Who do you think that was?" Sophie asked, trying not to think of her classmates as individuals. Already, at least sixteen of them were dead and more would inevitably follow before the Program ended. The only way she could cope, particularly when it came to the students she had killed personally, was to forget that she had been their classmate since she was eleven and that she had known some of them for even longer. It was best to think of them as strangers.

Benita shrugged. "Who knows? It could be any of them, but I guess our "friend", Osborne, will tell us tonight . . ." She paused, then added: "If we live that long." Those in the Program could never be sure how long they were going to survive; even receiving the pack which held the best weapon on offer didn't guarantee that you would make it all the way to the end. You could get caught in a forbidden zone or a group of your fellow students could team up to take you down . . . In short, the only thing any of the students could be certain of was that only one of them would get out of this village alive.

Sophie and Benita tried not to think of what would happen if either of them won, knowing it would be at the expense of the other's life. They had pledged not to use their weapons against each other unless they absolutely had to, but there was no getting away from the fact that at least one of them would die shortly. And the collars round their necks meant there was no escaping that fate; if they went beyond the boundaries of the village or if they tried to remove their collars, they would suffer the same fate as Kieran. Even refusing to kill each other should it come down to the two of them wasn't an option, as Osborne had warned that the collars would also explode if twenty-four hours passed without any deaths or a winner hadn't emerged after three days.

It was hard to believe that, twenty-four hours ago, they had been on the bus with everyone else in 10G, on the way to what they thought would be a weekend at a Youth Hostel. A weekend of hiking trips, abseiling, learning to paddle a canoe . . . Last night should have been spent telling ghost stories and singing songs, not taking part in this insane game where the sole objective was to outlive all your classmates. Already, several students were dead, most at the hands of their own peers, though Sophie suspected three of them had committed suicide to avoid having to take part in this madness.

And she had little doubt that there were students taking part, students who were actually killing kids they had known for years. She already had the blood of three students on her hands, though she had not killed any of them wantonly. The first time she had killed had been because her own life was threatened, the second to save Benita. And the third student whose life she had taken was someone who was dying anyway. However, there were those who seemed to have no qualms about what they were doing, no qualms about the fact that they were murdering their own classmates. The only question was, why? Even in these extreme circumstances, why were kids who had known each other for years turning on each other?

Just as she was wondering if the knowledge that it was kill or be killed was driving at least some of her fellow students to madness, a length of cord with three heavy stones attached to one end suddenly came flying towards her.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

_Students remaining: 17_

Fortunately for Sophie, whoever had thrown the bola had not thrown it hard enough to do any serious damage. The stones grazed her temple, causing her to fall to the ground, her head bleeding profusely. But Benita, watching the unfolding scene, knew the amount of blood Sophie was losing was no real cause for concern; her mum was a nurse and had told her that head wounds often looked worse than they were. What worried her was the fact that Nicola, the student with the bola, was already heading over here to retrieve her weapon, no doubt intending to finish the job she had started.

Determined not to give Nicola that chance, Benita quickly fitted an arrow to her bow, something she had never done for real before. She could feel her hands shaking as various thoughts raced through her mind. If her arrow hit its target, she would almost certainly end up killing one of her fellow students, a line she had hoped to avoid crossing even under her current circumstances. But, if she missed, it would give Nicola more than enough time to run over here and retrieve the bola. She would then have plenty of time to finish off both Sophie and Benita; the bola looked like it would be pretty handy for beating someone to death, in addition to being a fairly lethal projectile weapon. It was the thought of this that caused Benita to let fly with her arrow.

More by luck than judgement, the arrow hit Nicola in the chest. She dropped to the ground immediately and lay lifeless, the shaft of the arrow sticking straight up in the air, as Benita hurried over to see how much damage had been done. A quick examination of Nicola revealed no trace of pulse or heartbeat; she had died instantly, killed by Benita's arrow. Benita sank to her knees as she took in the sight of her fallen classmate, wrestling with her conscience, the small voice inside her which said killing people was wrong. Inexperienced with the bow as she was, she had expected to wound Nicola, not kill her outright.

She remembered when she had asked Sophie what it was like to kill someone. Now she knew and it was not a pleasant feeling; she would have Nicola's death on her conscience for the rest of her life, however long that may be. But, under her current circumstances, she had had no choice; had she allowed Nicola to retrieve the bola, she and Sophie would almost certainly have had their names included in Osborne's next announcement.

She slowly reached out and retrieved the arrow which had ended Nicola's life.

* * *

Sophie groaned as Benita helped her to sit up. "What . . . happened?" The last thing she remembered was something hard grazing her temple and knocking her to the ground.

"Nicola just tried to kill you," Benita replied, holding up the bola. "With this. But I got her with one of my arrows . . ." She trailed off, unable to voice what she had done. The image of Nicola lying on the ground with an arrow in her chest seemed to have lodged itself in her mind.

"Dead?" Sophie asked, seeing that her normally optimistic friend looked troubled and guessing the reason why.

Benita nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "I didn't mean to do it! The arrow just . . ." She could go no further, unable to stop thinking of the arrow in Nicola's chest, the arrow which she, Benita, had fired intending to injure, not to kill. But it had caught Nicola right in the heart, an injury which no-one could hope to survive unless they were wearing some sort of body armour. And none of the packs had come equiped with body armour this year, though such items had been included in the past. In any case, Nicola was dead and it had been Benita who killed her.

Sophie was using her hankie to try and stem the flow of blood from her head; even so, she managed to give Benita a look which mixed concern with practicality. "Listen," she said. "If you hadn't done it, I wouldn't be talking to you right now. It's not pleasant having to kill people, but we don't have any choice. It's kill or be killed in this game. We didn't ask to be here - none of us did - but we are here and we've got to do whatever we need to do to stay alive." She did not add that this included the possibility that one of them might have to kill the other; aside from anything else, it did no-one any good to dwell on such things.

Benita nodded, though she was not entirely convinced. And she suspected that Sophie too was troubled by thoughts of the students she had had to kill, despite the way she tried to rationalise what she had done. Sophie had killed three students since the Program began, though Lucy didn't technically count, since she was already dying from the injuries she had sustained in the landmine explosion. But Benita had not been aiming to kill when she targetted Nicola . . .

"Come on," Sophie said, staggering to her feet. "Let's get out of here." And the two of them moved on, but not before Benita had stashed Nicola's bola in her pack. Neither of them had any use for the bola, but they didn't want to leave it lying around for the others to find.

* * *

Since the Program began, Jayne had been constantly on the move, never daring to stop in the same place for long. If she did, she would be in danger from her fellow students, some of whom were actively taking part in this sick game, though she had no way of knowing how many killers were out there. One thing she did know, however, was that she wanted no part in this. Her supplied weapon was a set of nunchucks, but she had no intention of using them. Instead, her plan was to avoid the others, keep changing her location and leave all the killing to the others.

Right now, at 4:35 PM, she was in Zone 3, about to enter the end cottage. This area should be safe for a while; it had not yet been named as a pending forbidden zone, but the north-west sector of the village was now dominated by forbidden zones. That, she hoped, meant her fellow students would be keeping clear of the area; even so, she decided to check carefully before entering the cottage.

She pushed open the front door - no response. However, she knew better than to trust a lack of response in a situation like this and took her nunchucks out of her pack, prepared to use them if she had to. She may not want to take part in this game, but there was still the possibility that she might have to use her weapon to defend herself, though she doubted her nunchucks would do much good if she came up against any of the students who were armed with guns. With that in mind, she moved cautiously, constantly on the alert for signs that this cottage was already occupied.

After several minutes had passed with nothing to indicate that there was anybody here, Jayne slowly pushed open the door to the living room - and stopped short. Someone was lying on the sofa, apparently asleep, and a knitting needle had been left lying on the floor. Jayne surveyed the scene with growing unease. Something wasn't right; her new housemate seemed unnaturally still for someone who was only sleeping. Which could mean only one thing . . .

A closer inspection confirmed it. The student on the sofa was Yasmin and she wasn't sleeping; she was dead, had been dead for several hours. Jayne gazed down at Yasmin's body, taking in her blood-stained shirt, her slightly open mouth, her eyes gazing sightlessly at the ceiling. Yasmin's name, Jayne recalled, had been among those which Osborne read out at his first announcement, which meant she had been lying here since last night. And she wasn't the only one; by now, there were bodies scattered all over the village, fifteen in total as of Osborne's most recent announcement and, judging by the shooting which Jayne had heard earlier, more had died since.

Jayne panicked; the thought of being in a room with a dead body terrified her. She backed slowly out of the living room, then fled the cottage, slamming the front door behind her. She began to run, skirting round the soon-to-be-forbidden Zone 4, wanting desperately to escape from this nightmare.

But there was no escaping the Program.

* * *

At the back of the village shop, Jayne paused to catch her breath. She did not know how much more of this she could take. The fatigue, the constant need to keep moving, the knowledge that a momentary lapse could get you killed . . . If only there was some way she could call for help. But there wasn't; Osborne had said none of the phones in the village would work and even mobile phones were useless. The village was completely cut off from the outside world; after its residents were forced to leave, the surrounding countryside had been declared a no-go area for anyone not connected to the Program. That meant even signalling for help from passing motorists was out of the question.

Overwhelmed by despair, Jayne sank to the ground, tears welling up in her eyes. "God! Get me out of here!" she cried. But, if there was a God, He did not seem to be listening. She was trapped in a nightmare game where she faced death at the hands of her own classmates, a game she did not want to play but which she could not hope to escape. The most she could do was avoid the other students and, thanks to the increasing number of forbidden zones, she couldn't even do that forever. Sooner or later, her luck would run out.

As she sat sobbing behind the shop, Jayne was unaware that her luck had already run out. Abigail, who had made the shop her hideout as long as Zone 10 remained safe, had heard crying and gone to investigate. But not to see if she could help; she was out to claim a second kill. She could see Jayne sitting by the bins, completely oblivious to the danger she was in, so wrapped up in her despair that she had not even heard Abigail approach.

Good, Abigail preferred it that way; it meant she wouldn't have to shoot someone face-to-face. She still didn't know if she would ever be able to look one of her fellow students in the eye before killing them. That was why her strategy had been to shoot her opponents from behind; it was the only way she could bring herself to do what she had to do in this insane game. It was kill or be killed, with only one student allowed to live.

Abigail raised her revolver and fired three bullets into Jayne's back. Jayne slumped forward, coughing up blood; Abigail thought she was probably finished, but decided it was better to make certain and moved closer to her victim. The last thing Jayne ever felt was the barrel of Abigail's gun against the back of her skull.

* * *

While all this was going on, Katelynne was skirting round the outside of the barn in Zone 29. Like Jayne, she wanted no part in this slaughter, even though she had received one of the most lethal non-projectile weapons. Her pack had come equiped with a kama, a sickle blade on the end of a short handle; the blade looked like it could do a great deal of damage if it ended up in someone's skull. But Katelynne felt physically sick at the thought of doing that to another human being and had not taken her weapon out of her pack since she opened it to check its contents.

Instead, Katelynne was concentrating on keeping herself alive. As she did not wish to fight, the only way she could hope to do this was to keep away from the others, but this strategy would not work for long; attempts to avoid conflict in this game invariably ended in failure. Sooner or later, students who tried this would run into someone who was either actively participating in the Program or had been driven so mad with paranoia that they attacked on sight. Or they might get themselves caught in a forbidden zone and die when their collars exploded. Either way, the Program was no place for pacifism.

More than anything else, Katelynne wanted to get under cover before night fell. She had spent last night in Zone 37, hiding in a ditch; fortunately, none of the others had entered the same zone. But Zone 37 had become forbidden at seven o'clock this morning and Katelynne had spent the hours since moving from field to field. Now, as night drew near, she wanted to get undercover and the barn looked like it might provide her with shelter. Even so, she decided it would be safer to check first to see if any of her fellow students had already claimed it; you could not trust anyone in this game which required the players to kill each other until only one was left standing.

And, as she rounded the corner, she found proof of how deadly some of her classmates had become. A boy lay face-down on the ground, dead, a wound which looked as though it had been caused by a spear or similar weapon in the middle of his back. Closer inspection revealed who he was - Harry, that kid who was into boxing. Katelynne remembered hearing his name mentioned at the noon announcement and was just wondering which of her fellow students had killed him when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something moving. Moments later, Aidan appeared from round the other side of the barn, an expression of grim determination on his face and a harpoon poised in his hand. And the backwards-pointing barbs that made up the harpoon's point looked like they could do some serious damage.

Katelynne immediately decided she would try to reason with Aidan. All this killing was completely senseless and she was sure her fellow students (those who were actively taking part in this game) were only doing it because they were afraid of what would happen to them if they passed the three-day time limit without a clear victor. But, maybe if all the remaining students could get together and call a truce, they could work together on a plan to get out of here. And, if they could kill Osborne at the same time, it would be even better. Katelynne might not want to kill her fellow students, but their instructor was another matter; he worked for the Government and it was because of them that she and the others were here.

Hoping she could enlist Aidan as her first recruit, Katelynne stood up, holding her hands up to show that she had no intention of fighting. "Listen, I . . ." she began. But she never finished her sentence.

Aidan fired his harpoon; the barbed spear hit Katelynne right in the stomach before she had time to react. For a moment, she looked astonished at the sight of the shaft sticking out of her belly, before she keeled over, her life slipping away. Within minutes, she was dead, though Aidan waited until he was absolutely certain before attempting to remove his harpoon. When he did, he found that the shaft came away easily; however, the head was hopelessly lodged in Katelynne's stomach, the barbs preventing him from pulling it free. In the end, he gave up; his harpoon came with a set of spare heads anyway, so losing one of them wouldn't make much difference.

* * *

As the sun set, Sophie and Benita sat on a roadside verge, looking at the pinkish orange of the evening sky. They had not seen any of their fellow students since their encounter with Nicola that afternoon, but they knew that could not last. Sooner or later, they would be faced with another life or death situation and, in order to preserve their lives, they had to be prepared to cause the deaths of one or more of their fellow students. And Benita was still finding it difficult to come to terms with what she had done to Nicola.

"Sophie," she said, her voice shaking slightly, "how can someone kill another person?"

"This is about Nicola, isn't it?" Sophie guessed. A slight nod from Benita confirmed that she was right and she hurried on. "I don't know. Perhaps they've got something wrong with them which means they like killing people. Or perhaps, like us, they've got to kill or they'll be killed themselves." Either way, she added silently, the Program stole the innocence of the young people selected for it; many in the chosen class became murderers and all but one became murder victims, unless they died as a result of suicide or being caught in a forbidden zone. And the collars around each student's neck ensured that there could be no escape . . .

Just then, Osborne's voice cut through Sophie's thoughts; it was 6:00 PM, time for another announcement. Sophie and Benita listened carefully as Osborne revealed which students had died in the last six hours.

"The deaths which have been confirmed since my last announcement are as follows," he told the remaining students. "Boy #2: Devon O'Hare, Girl #2: Jayne Parsons, Girl #4: Katelynne Moss, Boy #6: Liam Selby, Girl #7: Lucy Foster, Boy #13: Daniel Gifford and Girl #15: Nicola Black." As in the three previous announcements, he read out the names of the dead students in the matter-of-fact tone which Sophie hated. "Excellent work, everyone - at this rate, we shouldn't have to worry about missing the deadline. But you all know what will happen if a winner isn't decided by the end of the third day."

"And now for the forbidden zones," he went on. "At 7:00 PM, Zone 9 will be the next to become forbidden, followed by Zone 25 at 9:00 PM and Zone 41 at 11:00 PM. So get out of those zones by the designated times and, if you're still alive at midnight, I'll speak to you again then. Over and out."

As she coloured in the squares on her map which corresponded to the pending forbidden zones, Sophie thought about what Osborne had just said. Devon, Liam and Daniel had been listed among the dead, which meant the nearest thing Parkwood had to a gang had been almost completely wiped out; of the five boys who had sat in the back seat on the bus, only Theo remained. But, beyond that, the number of students in 11G had been reduced from thirty-six to just fourteen.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

_Students remaining: 14_

James Anderson (Boy #5) had been keeping a low profile since the Program began, hiding in one of the cottages in Zone 2. He hadn't had much choice, having been among those who received a pack containing a useless weapon; in his case, this was a wooden spoon. An ordinary wooden spoon of the sort used to mix cakes, but not much use when you were up against several of your fellow students, many of whom were armed with proper weapons. And, James knew, there were students out there who were actually prepared to use their weapons, students who were killing their own classmates.

He wondered if he would have done the same had his pack contained something better than a wooden spoon. It was hard to imagine anyone would willing kill someone they had been hanging out with only yesterday, but if they knew the alternative was being killed themselves . . . Not that it mattered to James; he was in no position to kill anyone whether he wanted to or not. He examined his spoon ruefully, wondering if he might be able to ram the handle down someone's throat and choke them. Of course, he'd have to get in close . . .

Just then, Osborne's voice cut through James's thoughts as the 6:00 PM announcement began. James listened as Osborne revealed which students had died recently - seven of them since noon. Then came the pending forbidden zones, the first of which was Zone 9. Zone 9 . . . James took out his map to check it - like Sophie, he'd been marking off the forbidden zones as they were announced - and immediately realised he was in trouble. With much of this part of the village already dominated by forbidden zones, the only way anyone in Zones 2 and 3 could escape was via Zone 9. Once that was off limits, he would effectively be boxed in. And that meant he would only be able to enter Zones 2, 3 and 8 - and, if all three became forbidden . . .

James realised he had no choice but to leave the cottage where he had been hiding. But doing so would risk bringing him into contact with his fellow students and he had no means of defending himself against those who were armed with proper weapons, which was most of those who were still alive. Unless . . . Osborne hadn't said anything about the students only being allowed to use the weapons found in the packs, but was there anything in the cottage that might serve as a weapon? After a frantic search of the kitchen, he found a carving knife in one of the drawers; not much, but at least it was an improvement on a wooden spoon.

If the cottage had anything else to offer, James did not take the time to look for it. He had to get past Zone 9 by seven o'clock and he could not afford to waste time searching for weapons that may or may not exist.

* * *

James left the cottage and headed into Zone 8, the top left corner of the recreation green. He looked across at Zone 7 where the village hall stood; that area had become the first forbidden zone, no doubt to quell any thoughts the students might have had of teaming up and trying to take down those who had forced them into this situation. But the zone which concerned James right now was Zone 9, the zone which was scheduled to become forbidden next. He had to get across it before then and he had to do it without straying into the already forbidden Zone 14.

He checked his watch - 6:35. He should make it, but he could not afford to linger; he had wasted half-an-hour looking for the carving knife he now carried, though that wouldn't have been necessary had his pack come with a proper weapon. However, it was too late to worry about that now, so he turned in the direction of Zone 9 and began to run, not daring to stop until he was safely in neighbouring Zone 10. Of course, nowhere was 100% safe in this game and, as he drew level with the village shop, James found himself facing a grim reminder of the fate which awaited all but one of the students.

Three bodies lay on the ground outside the shop; closer inspection revealed that two of them were male and one was female. He recognised all three of them: Vijay, whose death had been announced last night, and Jordan and Amy, whose deaths had been announced at noon. He could not tell how Vijay had died, but he could clearly see that Amy had been shot and Jordan had been stabbed in the throat with what looked like a corkscrew. Had someone actually received a corkscrew in their pack? Or had one of his fellow students had the same idea as him and taken something from one of the houses to use as a weapon? Either way, whoever it was must be dead, since they would have taken it with them had they been alive. Unless they'd managed to pick up a better weapon from somewhere . . .

Preoccupied with examining the bodies, James did not notice that Abigail was watching him, much less that she had her revolver drawn. She fired her gun, shooting him in the back as she had done when she killed Amy and Jayne; he fell forward, dying, a bullet lodged in his lung, and was only dimly aware of the gun barrel being held against the back of his head. Two seconds later, Abigail increased her number of kills to three.

Abigail looked down at the boy she had just killed. Her first male victim, she realised, not that there was any real difference between this and her two previous kills, apart from the dead student's gender. All three had been shot in the back, then finished off with a bullet in the head; Abigail preferred it when she couldn't see her victims' faces. Her strategy of shooting from behind was the only way she could cope with what she had been brought here to do: kill her classmates before they did the same to her.

* * *

Jonathan too had been keeping a low profile, having taken shelter in the village vicarage on the first night. Like James, he was hiding not through choice but because he had received a useless weapon in his pack, meaning he had no means of defending himself against those who had proper weapons and were prepared to use them. He knew there were killers out there because he had heard Osborne's announcements and he also knew it was unlikely all the dead students would have committed suicide. A few of them maybe, but not all . . . He paused to work it out in his head. Five at the first announcement, two at the second, eight at the third, seven at the fourth - twenty-two dead in all. No, make that twenty-three; he had just heard shooting coming from somewhere nearby.

Jonathan looked at his "weapon" with disgust. Of all the things he could have received, he had received a silk scarf printed with butterflies, the sort of thing his grandmother might have worn. Technically, it wasn't a joke weapon since it could be used to strangle people, but what use was a scarf when your opponents (some of them anyway) were armed with guns and knives and other weapons capable of causing serious damage? Unlike Lana, Jonathan was not teamed up with another student, so he had no-one to help him restrain his victims while he throttled them. He quickly shoved the scarf back into his pack, then sat down to take stock of his situation.

He was currently in the vicar's study; the desk in front of him was covered with notes for sermons, a diary (used to note down dates for weddings, christenings and funerals) and three different versions of the Bible. Through the window, he could see the churchyard, but he tried to avoid looking at it; the sight of the headstones, standing in rows of black granite, reminded him that his own death could well be imminent. Less than twenty-four hours had passed since he and the others had woken up to find themselves in this sadistic game and the village was already littered with corpses. And any one of the remaining students could be the next to fall.

Jonathan was just wondering how he would be killed when the time came (Shot? Stabbed?) when he heard the sound of someone crying. It seemed to be coming from somewhere in the churchyard and his first instinct was to go and see if he could do anything to help. But he then remembered where he was and why he was here; whoever he could hear crying could well be faking it in order to lead one of their fellow students into a trap. But what if they were genuinely in distress? What if, by ignoring the crying because he thought it might be a trap, he ended up contributing to someone's death?

He knew that, even if he did manage to help the person who was crying, they couldn't both win this game. The rules were very clear on that; only one student in the chosen class was permitted to live. On the other hand, he wasn't likely to win anyway, not when his "weapon" was a silk scarf - unless he could somehow get hold of a proper weapon or, failing that, avoid both the forbidden zones and his fellow students. And he knew the odds that he would be able to avoid discovery while his classmates wiped each other out were slim; though he did not know it, others in 11G had tried the same strategy. Others who were now dead . . .

In the end, Jonathan decided he had nothing to lose by going to investigate, though he told himself that, if this turned out to be a trap, he must be prepared to make a run for it. Not back to the vicarage - it would no longer be safe if an enemy saw him returning there - but into one of the other safe zones. Of course, the term "safe zones" was something of a misnomer; they were only "safe" in the sense that the students could enter them without blowing themselves up.

* * *

Entering the churchyard, Jonathan looked around cautiously. There was still enough light to see by, but the gathering dusk cast eerie shadows over the graves, reminding him of the danger that awaited him now that he had left the safety of the vicarage. He silently cursed the hand which fate had dealt him, caught up in this deadly game with only a silk scarf to defend himself. "Shit!" he muttered as the cawing of a crow startled him. He was getting paranoid, jumping at the slightest sound, suspecting that enemies lurked around every corner, and was just beginning to question whether or not he would have been better off staying in the vicarage when he saw _her._

Dani, the girl he had fancied for the greater part of a year but had only dated once before they got caught up in this madness, was sitting on one of the old tombstones, her face buried in her hands. She was the one he had heard crying; perhaps the stress of knowing she might only have a few hours to live had got to her and caused her to break down. He moved closer to her, intending to reassure her, but all the while bracing himself to run for it in case she drew her weapon (if she had one) on him. You could not trust anyone in this game, not even someone you had once dated.

On the other hand, Dani might be willing to trust him, at least for a while, at least until one or both of them joined the ever-growing list of the dead. As far as he knew, there were no serious contenders for the now vacant title of Number One Couple, its previous holders having been the first students to fall in this deadly game. But maybe, in the short time they would have together, he and Dani could inherit Lauren and Michael's crown. However, he was unaware of two important facts.

First of all, Dani was the sort of girl who liked to string boys along; when she dated him, she already had two other boys (neither of whom were in 11G) on the go. Boys couldn't resist her and she knew it, something she had already exploited in order to take out Craig; she had seduced him, then slit his throat, leaving his naked body in one of the cottages in Zone 3. Jonathan was aware that Craig was dead, having heard about it at the noon announcement, but he did not know that the girl who was currently weeping in the churchyard had been the one responsible. She looked the picture of innocence with her long blonde hair tied back in a pony-tail, hardly the sort of girl who went round luring unwary boys into her clutches.

In fact, that wasn't the other thing he didn't know about her. Dani was a highly skilled actress who knew how to manipulate people. With her innocent looks, it was easy for her to make herself appear vulnerable and frightened, no threat to anyone. Right now, it appeared that she was crying because she was scared of what might happen to her in this deadly game; in reality, however, she had been playing the game from the start. She had already lured Craig to his death; thanks to her, he had died without knowing he wasn't really the first boy she had slept with. And, needless to say, she was not really crying at all; she was simply faking it in order to lure another potential victim.

* * *

But Jonathan was unaware of all this; all he saw was a girl crying in a churchyard, a girl frightened out of her senses by the spectre of death which hung over all the students. He instinctively wanted to protect her, even though he knew there was little he could do when he didn't have a proper weapon. He slowly walked towards her, holding out his hands to show that he wasn't armed. "Dani," he said. "Dani, it's OK - I'm not gonna hurt you."

She pretended to wipe away non-existent tears and looked around at the sound of his voice. "You're not?" she asked, making her voice sound like that of a frightened little girl who wanted to be reassured that everything was going to be all right, that this was all a bad dream and she would be safe when she woke up.

"No, I'm not," Jonathan replied, sitting down beside her. "And, even if I wanted to, I couldn't." He laughed ruefully. "Do you know what I got in my pack?" Dani looked at him blankly; she genuinely didn't know, having not seen him since he left the village hall. "A silk scarf," he said, answering his own question. "I mean, what am I supposed to do with that? Keep my neck warm?" He thought about the offending article, currently shoved to the bottom of his pack. He could have used it to strangle her right there and then, but the sight of her looking so vulnerable and frightened disarmed him. He could not bring himself to kill her.

Dani sighed. "I know the feeling."

"Oh," said Jonathan, still unaware that she was luring him into a trap. "What did you get?" It sounded as though she was another student who had received a pack which contained a useless weapon - no wonder she was so frightened. He needed no-one to tell him that, at this stage in the Program, most of the students who were still alive would be armed with proper weapons and were prepared to use them.

"A paper clip," Dani lied. It was the first thing she could think of that would be pretty much useless as a weapon. "A lousy paper clip!" She allowed a touch of bitterness to creep into her voice. "So I'm in no position to kill anyone and I can't defend myself if someone tries to kill me. So I've been hiding since the game began, listening to Osborne's announcements to find out who's dead, hoping I'll somehow get through this, but . . ." She broke off to launch into another bout of fake crying.

Jonathan moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her as she pretended to cry into his shoulder. "Dani, it's all right," he told her. "I'll protect you. I don't know how, but I will and . . ." He was cut off abruptly as he felt a twisting sensation in his guts that had nothing to do with the fact that he had his arms around a pretty girl. Or rather it did, but not for the reason he might have hoped. The next thing he knew, Dani was pulling her kukri out of his belly, watching dispassionately as he collapsed, a red stain beginning to form on the front of his jeans. "Dani . . ." he gasped, realising too late what had happen, what her plan had been.

As she looked at the boy she had just stabbed, Dani gave a light laugh. She had pulled off her "damsel in distress" routine brilliantly and, as a result, her would-be protector was now dying, dying from a wound she had inflicted. As far as she was concerned, boys were only good for one thing and they were easy to fool; all you had to do was act vulnerable and a knight in shining armour would come to your rescue. Which was exactly what she had been counting on when she devised her plan, though she had no way of knowing who, if anyone, would respond to her non-existent tears. But she was pleased it had turned out to be one of the boys she had strung along in the past; it meant she could really milk this moment for all it was worth.

She leaned closer to her victim. "You were such a fool, Jonathan Hill," she whispered. Her voice was the last thing Jonathan ever heard.

As she walked away from where Jonathan lay dead on the old tombstone, Dani was unaware that she was being followed. Joseph had seen the whole thing and had quickly come to the conclusion that now might be a good time to take Dani out. He too was an active participant in this game, but, unlike Dani, he was not going to resort to devious and underhanded tricks in order to add to his list of victims. He was prepared to kill face-to-face and did not allow himself to think about the person he was killing.

With that in mind, he waited until Dani drew level with the tombstone he was crouching behind, then stepped out in front of her with his pistol drawn.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_Students remaining: 12_

The grim expression on Joseph's face told Dani he meant business, that he had no qualms about murdering his fellow students, that he was prepared to add her to his tally of kills. True, she wasn't exactly an innocent victim here - two of her classmates had died at her hands, both after being deceived by her - but she clung to the desperate hope that, if she put on a "frightened little girl" act like she had for Jonathan, Joseph might leave her alone. It was the only chance she had of getting away with her life.

"Hey, Joe," she said, her voice trembling as she looked down the barrel of his pistol. "I - I don't think you w - want to do this . . ." But, even as she said those words, she knew they would, at best, only buy her a few more minutes; nevertheless, she continued, trying to postpone the inevitable for as long as she could. Armed with a dagger against his gun, there was little else she could do. Apart from try to run away and that would only give him an invitation to shoot her in the back.

Joseph gave a mirthless laugh as he continued to level his pistol at her. "Oh, yeah? And I suppose you didn't want to kill Jonathan either," he retorted. "Well, if you think I'm gonna fall for that, then think again! I saw the whole thing! You're playing this game, aren't you? Well, so am I!" And, with that, he began to squeeze the trigger, preparing to unleash the bullets which would end Dani's life and bring the number of students he had killed to seven. Out of all the students in 10G, he had made the most kills; as far as he was concerned, previous relationships mattered little in this game where the sole objective was to be the last survivor.

"Please . . ." Dani began to cry for real, tears falling down her cheeks as she realised no amount of pleading for mercy would persuade Joseph to spare her life. Seconds later, before she could attempt to take any kind of evasive action, two bullets slammed into her chest; she remained standing for a moment, before sinking to her knees as she slipped into eternal darkness. The last thing she ever saw was Joseph looking down on her, still holding his pistol.

Joseph continued to stand over Dani until he was satisfied that she was dead. Then, he calmly walked away, leaving her lying on the ground, her shirt stained with blood. He gave no thought to the fact that Dani had been his classmate, that she was someone he had known since their first day at Parkwood when they had found themselves sitting next to each other in morning assembly. All that mattered to him was that it was now kill or be killed and, since he would prefer not to be killed, he would have to do at least some of the killing. And he was not going to let himself be swayed by pleas for mercy; he was playing this game and he was playing to win.

* * *

Sophie and Benita were still on the roadside verge where they had been when Osborne made his 6:00 PM announcement when they heard a sound which was becoming all too familiar, the sound of shooting. They needed no-one to tell them what it meant: another death for Osborne to announce when midnight came. There had already been one lot of shooting since six o'clock; now it seemed there were two students who had recently ended up on the wrong end of a gun. Or was it guns, plural? Had it been a different student doing the shooting on each occasion? And then there was the question of who the victims had been.

Sophie tried not to think of the fact that every death not only brought her one step closer to getting out of this nightmare but also one step closer to losing her best friend. She had known Benita nearly all her life; it was hard to imagine a world without her in it, a world where the two of them would never again hang out at the local shopping centre, swap fashion tips, compare notes on boys they fancied . . . In fact, all that was already gone; it had been gone from the moment they woke up to find themselves in the Program.

"How many of us are left?" she asked. "Apart from ourselves, I mean."

"There were twelve," Benita replied, looking down at her hands. "But we've heard shooting twice now, so . . ." She broke off and shook her head as the implications hit her. If those shootings had indeed resulted in any deaths, there could be as few as ten other students remaining, possibly even less if anyone had been killed by a weapon other than a gun. "I guess we'll know at midnight," she added. "If we're alive . . ."

Looking at Benita, Sophie couldn't help thinking of how much things had changed since they set out on this so-called school trip. At the time, they had been full of excitement, looking forward to a weekend dedicated to outdoor pursuits, to learning to paddle a canoe and laughing at those unlucky enough to fall in, to the barbecue which would have marked the last night of the trip . . . Instead, they were trapped in this nightmare game, this game from which one or both of them would not escape with their lives. It was too dark for Sophie to see her watch, but she guessed it must be about nine o'clock; that meant they had been in the village for something close to twenty-four hours.

Twenty-four hours as pawns in the Government's sick game, twenty-four hours of knowing at least one of them faced certain death - that was the reality Sophie and Benita faced. Sophie wished she could wake up and find that this was all a bad dream, but it wasn't; it was reality. Over twenty of her classmates really were dead and anyone could be the next to fall.

As if to remind her, a boy emerged from the hedge a few feet away, a boy armed with an air rifle.

* * *

Having failed to meet up with his friends, Theo, the sole survivor of Devon's group, had been biding his time, waiting until one or more of his fellow students ventured near the area he had designated as his territory - as long as the area in question remained safe. If he saw anyone, regardless of who it was, he was going to shoot them. Not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice; Osborne had made it clear that those selected for the Program must kill or be killed.

With that in mind, he leveled his rifle and took aim at the two girls he could see nearby, though he could not see who they were. He fired, but the shot missed its target and alerted the girls into the bargain; it looked as though shooting someone was not going to be as easy as he had thought. But he wasn't about to give up; as far as he was concerned, each of the girls he had seen beside the road had an air rifle pellet with her name on it. And he was going to be the one who delivered it, even if he had to chase them all night. He sprinted after them as they tried to make their escape across the fields belonging to the farm which bordered the village to the south.

"Who's shooting at us?!" Benita cried, as she and Sophie struggled to avoid the pellets being fired at them. Which wasn't too difficult; whoever had received the air rifle had missed every shot so far, so, if the same person had been behind the shooting earlier, that meant their victim had probably escaped. But something told that this wasn't the case.

"Dunno," Sophie replied, wondering if she could try a shot at their assailant. "But at least they're a bad shot, so . . ." At that moment, as if her saying the student with the air rifle was a bad shot had tempted fate, one of the pellets caught her in the upper arm. She fell, clutching her injured arm and thinking this was it. This was the moment she would be eliminated from the game and, with her arm like this, there was no way she could defend herself. Benita had her bow and arrows, but she was still having qualms about her role in Nicola's death, so Sophie doubted she would be up to shooting their would-be murderer.

Oh, well; at least she and Benita would go together. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the end . . . But the end never came; instead, she heard a crackle of electricity, followed by the dull thud of a body falling to the ground. At first, she was afraid to open her eyes, fearing that the body she had heard falling had been Benita's, that she must now face this deadly game alone. But, moments later, she heard a girl's voice saying: "Come on! Let's get out of here!"

Sophie opened her eyes and, by the light of the moon, saw two girls standing over a fallen boy. One of the girls was Benita and the other was someone she had not seen since the Program began - Daljit, who had, along with Shane, sat across the aisle from Sophie and Benita on the bus which brought the students to the village. In her hand, she held what appeared to be her weapon, a taser; the devices were sometimes used in the Republic's prisons to quell troublesome inmates, as Sophie had learned when a government official came to Parkwood to deliver a talk on the Republic's justice system. Most of it had gone over her head, but she clearly remembered the moment when the official had demonstrated the effect of a taser bolt. The victim had been a boy (not one of Sophie's classmates) who had been caught playing with a handheld computer game instead of listening to the lecture; afterwards, he had been sentenced to two weeks in a Re-education Centre - without trial.

The boy's parents had not protested; they didn't dare. Anyone who spoke out against anything the Government did faced severe punishment and would be labelled as "Politically Suspect" for the rest of their lives. That meant they could never get a well-paid job or even travel outside their own State; it could even mean having their children taken away from them to be raised by "more suitable" families. So hardly anyone dared protest, even if their children were selected for the Program.

* * *

Now, Daljit stood over Theo (though Sophie and Benita did not yet know who it was) armed with a taser similar to the one which had been used on the boy. Sophie stiffened, expecting Daljit to turn the taser on her or Benita next; instead, Daljit put the device and Theo's air rifle in her pack and repeated her instruction to "come on". Sophie and Benita hesitated - trusting anyone was risky in this game - but the fact that Daljit had put both weapons away meant she didn't want them dead just yet. Of course, she could be leading them into a trap, but Sophie and Benita decided they would have to go along with her for the time being.

As they began to make their way across the field, Sophie clutching her arm where Theo's pellet had caught it, Benita glanced back at where Theo lay on the ground. "He's not . . . dead?" she asked. She had been off school with a cold on the day of the lecture and had not witnessed the incident of the boy with the computer game. And, though she had been given notes outlining the content of the talk when she returned, they had only contained a brief mention that a student had been punished for inattention; the nature of the punishment was not mentioned.

"No," replied Daljit. "Just stunned. I don't want to kill anyone - and Shane agrees with me."

"Shane?" Sophie repeated the name of the boy whose number corresponded to Daljit's. Of course - she should have known they would be together. Not only had they left the village hall just two minutes apart, there were also rumours that they were more than just friends. Though, unlike Lauren and Michael, they had not chosen suicide as a means of escaping the possibility of having to kill each other.

"Yeah. He thought, if we could get a group of students together, we might be able to find a way of fighting back. Against the Program, not each other."

Sophie knew Daljit was straying into dangerous territory; Osborne wouldn't hesitate to detonate the collar of any student he heard plotting against the Program. Even so, she found herself wanting to hear more. This was only the second time (the first had been Kieran's outburst in the village hall) that she had heard someone actively opposing the Government. "How are you going to do that?" she asked. Common sense told her that Osborne held all the cards, that any attempt to oppose him was doomed to failure.

"I don't know. But Shane says we've got to try - otherwise, the Government will just keep forcing kids to kill each other. So he formed SAP."

"SAP?" echoed Benita. "What does that mean?"

Daljit skirted around the forbidden Zone 33, as Sophie and Benita followed her. "Students Against the Program. Shane thought of it himself."

"Catchy name." Sophie's comment had a slightly sarcastic edge. "And how many members have you got?"

"If you two join, four."

* * *

Of course, the odds of Shane and Daljit picking up any more recruits for their fledgeling resistance movement were virtually zero. Only a handful of students remained and most of them were either too afraid to get involved in anything that opposed the Program or were actively participating. Lana fell into the latter category, having already been responsible for the deaths of two students since the game began, though she had made no kills since this morning. By now, she was growing impatient; unless a potential victim turned up soon, she was going to have to kill Eleanor.

Which wouldn't be such a bad idea; Eleanor clearly didn't have the stomach for this game. Lana hadn't missed her reaction to Christina's death and again when Deepak was killed. So the sooner she was removed from the game, the better; Lana was not prepared to babysit a squeamish kid who got upset at the sight of a dead body. So far, she had let Eleanor live as long as the latter made herself useful, but her patience was beginning to run out. As far as Lana was concerned, Eleanor's usefulness was coming to an end, which meant there was only one thing worth doing with her.

Just as Lana was debating whether to use her own garrotte or Deepak's siangham to send Eleanor into the afterlife, she caught sight of something - someone - moving on the ground nearby. Sensing another potential victim, she put her plans for murdering Eleanor on hold and crept closer to the prone person. A boy, though it was too dark to see who it was; it hardly mattered, however, as he would soon be dead. Lana pulled out the siangham she had taken from Deepak and straddled the boy on the ground, preparing to thrust the lethal spike into his heart. As she did so, she noted that he seemed to be only semi-conscious - perhaps he'd been in a fight earlier, in which case she was probably doing him a favour.

But, before Lana could stab her victim, a shout from Eleanor distracted her. "No! Not again!"

Lana whipped round, the siangham still gripped in her hand. "Don't interfere!" she warned. Besides, she added silently, what could Eleanor do to stop her? She already knew Eleanor was one of the students who had not received a proper weapon, that she only had a box of matches with which to defend herself.

"But all this killing!" Eleanor pleaded, recalling how callously Lana had taken out first Christina, then Deepak. The latter had even been deliberately lured to his doom. "It's just wrong! Why not . . .?" She broke off as she realised Lana was glaring at her.

"Listen." Lana's voice had the same hard edge it had had when she warned Eleanor not to interfere. "You heard what Osborne said. It's kill or be killed - and I don't want to be killed. So shut up before I shut you up for good!" Then, before Eleanor could say anything else, she raised the siangham and pushed it deep into the boy's heart. And Theo, the last remaining member of Devon's band of delinquents, joined his friends and twenty-one other students on the list of the dead.

* * *

Meanwhile, Daljit had led Sophie and Benita to the farmhouse which stood in Zone 30. She and Shane had taken shelter here on the first night and it was here that they had decided they had to do something about the Program, though they did not know precisely what. But they did know that, for their plans to have any hope of success, they needed to get as many of their fellow students together as possible. With that in mind, Daljit had gone out looking for potential recruits, taking her taser with her so that she had some means of defending herself.

She and Shane had already agreed that anyone who was clearly a willing participant in the game was out of the question; the whole point of forming SAP was to oppose the Program. That was why she had left Theo lying on the ground after she stunned him. Having seen him shooting at two other students, she had concluded that he was a threat and that bringing him into their small band of rebels wasn't worth the risk. But, if they could get as many of the surviving students together as possible, it might be possible to devise a plan to sabotage the Program and maybe even escape from this nightmare.

They had approached this with the idealism of youth, not knowing (because details of individual Programs, other than how each of the dead students had died, were not made available to the general public) that similar attempts at rebellion had been made before. And, needless to say, all such attempts had ended the same way.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

_Students remaining: 10_

"Can everybody hear me? Well, everybody who's still alive anyway."

It was midnight, time for yet another announcement from Osborne. His voice was now being projected all over the village, even though there were less than a dozen students left to hear it. There had been four deaths in the past six hours and Osborne now proceeded to read out the names of the students concerned. "Boy #5: James Anderson, Boy #7: Jonathan Hill, Boy #17: Theo McKenzie and Girl #17: Dani Andrews. Well done to all of you; if you keep this up, the winner should be determined some time tomorrow. But remember, no-one has won yet. Each of you must still outlive nine of your classmates."

The next order of business was the forbidden zones. "At 1:00 AM, Zone 36," Osborne told the students. "This will be followed by Zone 29 at 3:00 AM and Zone 19 at 5:00 AM. So, if you are in any of those zones, I strongly urge you to get out as quickly as possible. Because you know what will happen to you otherwise . . ." Then, he concluded his announcement with the words: "And, until six o'clock, goodbye."

As the announcement ended, Benita exchanged worried looks with Shane and Daljit. Sophie was sleeping on a sofa in the farmhouse kitchen, her arm bandaged where Shane had used a knife to cut out the pellet from Theo's air rifle. "Did you hear what Osborne said?" Benita asked. "We've got two pending forbidden zones right next to us!" Which, she realised, meant they would have to get out of here by three o'clock; otherwise, they would be hemmed in, unable to escape if Zones 24 and 30 joined the list of forbidden zones.

"In that case," Shane said, "we'd better get some sleep. We'll have to leave before two - that'll give us an hour to get clear of Zone 29 before it becomes forbidden." Of course, they could have left the farmhouse there and then, which would give them plenty of time to get away from the pending forbidden zones, but Daljit had insisted that Sophie needed to rest after Shane's impromptu surgery. It was fortunate that Daljit had intervened when she did, though Benita couldn't help wondering why she had done it. In this game, especially when the number of students was reduced to a handful, it was everyone for themselves; there was no sense in saving someone's life only to have to kill them later.

* * *

"Daljit?" Benita whispered, as they prepared to catch a couple of hours' sleep. "Why did you save us?"

"I told you," Daljit whispered back. "We - Shane and I - think all this killing is wrong and we want to do something about it. That's why we formed SAP."

"And what are you planning to do exactly?" Though Benita was a natural optimist, she couldn't help thinking that Shane and Daljit were taking rather a large risk. Aside from the fact that Osborne could detonate their collars if he suspected they were plotting against the Program, there was still the matter of getting the other students on their side. Which could be difficult in this game where everyone was a potential killer, where nobody could be completely trusted.

"Find out how to get these collars off without blowing ourselves up, for one thing. Then, we'll pay Osborne a visit in his little bolt hole . . ." Daljit meant the village hall, which had become the first forbidden zone. ". . . and make him pay for what he's done to us!" Of course, this kind of ill-thought-out talk of rebellion was one of the reasons the Program had been imported in the first place; the Government maintained that it served as proof that teenagers needed to be kept firmly in line, that they must not be allowed to develop dangerous ideas. After all, it had been young people who initiated the riots which had led to the Clampdown.

"What then?" Benita asked. "It's all very well getting our collars off and escaping from here, but the Government will never let us get away with it. We'll be hunted down for the rest of our lives!"

"Then we'll have to do more than escape from this village. We'll have to escape from the Republic."

Escape from the Republic. That could be easier said than done; the Great European Republic covered nearly all of Europe and, while it was possible for officials to travel outside the Republic, the privilege was not extended to the general population, certainly not to a group of teenagers plotting against the Government.

* * *

Antony had not slept once since arriving in the village; the need to avoid his fellow students kept him constantly on the move and he only allowed himself a few minutes of rest every time the next announcement came round. The moment Osborne's voice was projected across the village, he would sit down and listen as the names of those who had died since the last announcement were revealed. By now, twenty-six corpses lay scattered all over the village and Antony was desperate to make sure that his would not be the twenty-seventh.

He had not done too badly with his weapon, which had turned out to be a hammer, but he was another of those students who were trying to get through the Program by avoiding the others and hoping they would wipe each other out. So far, all such attempts (in both this and previous Programs) had been unsuccessful; sooner or later, every student in the selected class had to face a life or death situation and anyone who was unable or unwilling to fight would end up dead. But, as long as he kept moving and steered clear of the forbidden zones, he at least had a slight chance.

He risked switching on his torch to check his map, now covered with black crosses to indicate the forbidden zones. By now fifteen zones were either forbidden or scheduled to become forbidden, with three otherwise safe zones cut off because they were surrounded by forbidden zones. And, by dawn, Zones 24, 30 and 42 would be rendered inaccessible for the same reason. The area within which he could move safely was steadily shrinking and that meant all the remaining students would eventually be forced into the same area. When that happened, it would only be a question of time before all but one of them was dead.

Dead. For the first time, Antony began to realise how futile his plan to avoid his classmates and wait for them to kill each other was. There was no way he could avoid his fellow students forever, not when they were constantly being forced to move on to avoid being caught in the forbidden zones. Sooner or later, he would be forced into a confrontation with them, forced to fight kids who had once been his classmates but were all now potential murderers. The thought caused something to snap inside him; he lost all sense of reason. In his mind, every corner concealed a lurking student trying to kill him and, had he been armed with a gun, this would almost certainly have caused him to start shooting at shadows.

He had to avoid the others at all costs. But how? Thanks to the collar around his neck, there was no way he could go beyond the boundaries of the village without blowing himself up. But, maybe if he found a vantage point, somewhere which looked out over the whole village, he would at least be able to spot his potential killers before they spotted him. And the highest point in the whole village was the church tower which, as an added bonus, was in one of the safe zones.

He began to run in the direction of the church, not realising in his madness that his plan to hide in the church tower contained at least two flaws. Not only could not he not guarantee that Zone 6 (where the church stood) would not become forbidden at any point, he also risked becoming trapped if any of his fellow students decided to search the tower. His only thought was to get to the highest point he could reach and that just happened to be the church tower.

* * *

According to his watch, it was just after 1:00 AM when Antony reached the churchyard. His heart started pounding at the sight of the gravestones sticking out of the ground; any one of them could conceal a killer, a fellow student out to eliminate him from this deadly game. But more than that, they reminded him of his own mortality, not that he needed reminding right now. In his mind, every gravestone had his name carved on it; he imagined his family standing around each of them and weeping, mourning another young life lost to the Program.

No! That was not going to happen. He was going to survive this and, in order to do that, he had to get to the church tower where he would be out of the reach of any potential killers. Breathing raggedly, he began to run towards the church, focusing solely on the building ahead of him, unaware that his single-minded desire to reach his destination was a manifestation of the madness into which he was descending. This was a church, after all, and weren't churches supposed to be a place of sanctuary? Of course, this was the Program and nowhere in the village was completely safe, not even the church.

Reaching the bottom of the church tower, Antony found the door which led into the tower conveniently unlocked, though it did not occur to him to question this. All he knew was that it meant he was supposed to go inside, that this was where he must wait out the Program while his fellow students slaughtered each other. It was almost like a sign, a message from God that he was the Chosen One, the one who was destined to survive while everyone else died. That was the thought which was uppermost in his mind as he ran up the spiral staircase and entered the tower room. Ropes used for ringing the church's two bells dangled above his head, but he paid them no heed; his only thought was that, out of all the students in 11G, he was the only one who had succeeding in outsmarting the Program.

It was then that any vestiges of sanity left him. Originally, his intention had been to hide in the tower, but he now grew bolder and began to climb the ladder which led to the belfry, the part of the tower which housed the bells. From there, it took him a matter of seconds to climb out onto the roof of the tower, by which time he no longer cared if anyone found him or not. Let his fellow students come and let them be armed; he was going to outlive them all. And, as for Osborne . . .

"Hey! Osbert, or whatever your name is!" he shouted, taunting the man who had been monitoring his every move since he arrived in the village. "You think you're so big, sitting there reading out dead kids' names? Well, no-one can kill me because I am invincible!"

And, as if to prove his invincibility, he stepped onto the crenellations around the edge of the tower roof and launched himself off it.

* * *

It was Joseph who found him, sprawled on the ground in front of the tower. One look was all that was needed; Antony's insane belief in his own invincibility had ultimately proved to be his downfall, in more ways than one. The fall had killed him instantly and he now lay on the ground, his neck broken, his eyes still open but seeing nothing. After all his attempts to evade his fellow students and wait for them to wipe each other out, Antony had died because, in a moment of madness, he had forgotten that the law of gravity still applied even in the Program.

Joseph finished his cursory examination of Antony's body and turned his attention to the dead student's pack. He was interested in the weapon it contained; though he had his pistol, the supply of bullets which had come with it was beginning to run out. That meant a back-up weapon was essential if he was going to win this game, preferably something which didn't require bullets. Such as . . . Joseph smiled to himself as he pulled what looked like an ordinary hammer out of Antony's pack. It didn't look as though it had ever been used, certainly not for the purpose it had been placed in the pack, but Joseph decided that it might come in useful and transfered it into his own pack.

Remembering that he had killed Dani somewhere near this spot, he wondered if he should take the time to look for her body as well. After all, judging from the way she had stabbed Jonathan to death, her pack contained some kind of bladed weapon. But he decided that his pistol and the hammer he had retrieved from Antony's pack were enough for now and moved on, but only as far as the vicarage.

Right from when he first learned that his class had been selected for the Program, Joseph had been playing the game. And, in doing so, he had lost all sense of humanity; all that mattered to him was that he had to win at all costs. He had already ruthlessly murdered seven of his fellow students, but he had not allowed his conscience to bother him for some time. Any doubts he might have about what he was doing to kids he had known for years were quickly suppressed; he must kill or be killed and he could not allow morality to get in the way.

As for Antony, Joseph could not tell how he had come to fall off the church tower, but it hardly mattered. All it meant was that the game had moved one step nearer to its conclusion, to the point where the sole survivor out of thirty-six students would be allowed to leave the village with his or her life. And Joseph was determined that he would be that survivor.

"Twenty-seven down, eight to go," he thought out loud.

* * *

Sophie woke to the sound of Benita calling her name, urging her to get up. She groaned and sat up, taking stock of her surroundings; she was in the farmhouse, lying on a sofa with Benita kneeling beside her, shaking her awake. Shane and Daljit were standing nearby, their packs slung over their shoulders and a tense look on both their faces. She wondered what was going on; she remembered getting shot in the arm and Daljit leading her and Benita here, but she must have fallen asleep shortly after arriving because she remembered nothing since. She checked her watch - 2:15 AM. That meant she had slept through the midnight announcement.

"Did you hear . . .?" she began to ask. But Daljit cut her short.

"Yes. James, Jonathan, Theo and Dani are dead. And we're about to be surrounded by forbidden zones." Which meant SAP, the anti-Program group she and Shane had started would have to move out of the farmhouse which had in effect been their headquarters. She had no idea where they were going to go next, only that they had to get away before Zone 29 became forbidden, effectively boxing them in. Of course, there were only four members - most of the students who might have been potential SAP recruits were already dead - but that was all the more reason to get clear as quickly as possible. Once they had done that, they could try to work out a way of dealing with those wretched collars; only then would they be able to make a move against Osborne.

Shane and Daljit had already examined each other's collars and knew they were held shut by a lock which could only be opened with the right key. Any attempt to pry it open would trigger the explosives inside the collar and that was the last thing they wanted. But perhaps they wouldn't have to worry about blowing themselves up if they could somehow override the computer in the village hall and, to do that, they would need someone who really knew about computers. Someone like Antony, a member of Parkwood's computer club; it was said he could even get round the Great European Firewall, the nickname given to the mandatory Internet filters installed on all computers in the Republic to ensure that no-one could gain access to "dangerous" ideas.

With that in mind, Daljit had tried to call Antony on his mobile; Osborne had said the students wouldn't be able to call anyone outside the village, but he hadn't said anything about them not being able to call each other. But the only response she received was a series of beeps which meant she was not getting a signal. In the end, she gave up; if she and Shane wanted Antony in their band of rebels, they would have to find him themselves. Now, with most of the students dead, it was more important than ever for those who remained to band together and resist the tyranny which had forced them into this deadly game.

But, as Daljit switched off the kitchen light and left the farmhouse with Shane, Sophie and Benita, she did not know that Antony was already dead, that the one student who might have been able to help them get their collars off safely could help them no longer.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

_Students remaining: 9_

Once again, Sophie and Benita had to move on to avoid becoming surrounded by forbidden zones, the number of which was increasing all the time. And so was the number of dead students; as of Osborne's most recent announcement, there had been twenty-six, but Sophie knew at least one more must have fallen since then. But she had no time to worry about such things; her main priority was getting clear of Zone 29 before it became forbidden at 3:00 AM.

She thought about the events of the last few hours, in particular the fact that she and Benita had joined forces with Shane and Daljit. Shane and Daljit, the students who believed they could somehow defeat the Program even though they had no idea how they would achieve this. She had to admit they were right when they said the whole concept was immoral, but what could they do about it? Even if they could get all the remaining students together, there was no guarantee that they would listen. Some of them might even see any attempt to band together as an opportunity to take out a few more opponents.

As if on cue, Sophie's arm throbbed where the pellet from Theo's air rifle had hit her. Theo, one of the four students whose deaths had been announced at midnight; Daljit now had his rifle in her pack, along with her own taser. Meanwhile, Shane had the rapier which he had found in his pack, while Sophie had her cutlass and the handgun which had originally been Lauren's weapon. Finally, Benita (who had thrown away the cricket ball which had been her supplied "weapon") had Adam's bow and arrows, though she had not used them since she and Sophie had their encounter with Nicola. Nicola's bola was still stuffed into Benita's pack; neither she nor Sophie had been able to decide what they should do with it.

In any case, it looked as though there were a number of practical difficulties involved in staging a rebellion. Even if the four of them could get the remaining students together and persuade them to call a truce, there was still the matter of the collars. They could not be removed without triggering the explosives inside them, unless the computer controlling them could somehow be sabotaged. And it would take someone who really knew computers to do that and escape detection. Antony, Sophie recalled, was a whizz with computers, but she hadn't seen him since she left the village hall and did not even know if he was still alive. His name had not been mentioned at the midnight announcement, but there was no telling who had died in the hours since.

* * *

"Daljit!" she called to the girl who was leading them across Zone 29. "Daljit, wait!"

Daljit turned at the sound of her voice, but did not stop walking. "We can't wait. We've got to get clear of this zone. Whatever you want to say, save it until we get out of here."

But Sophie was not about to give up. "Daljit, even if you could get everyone together, what can we do against the Program? We can't get near Osborne without blowing ourselves up. And there's no way he'd let us get away with refusing to fight. You heard what he said - if no-one dies for twenty-four hours or a winner hasn't emerged after three days, we all die!"

"I don't know." Daljit shook her head. "But there must be something we can do. Look, the only reason the Government forces us to do this is because they don't want us to trust each other. But, if we all - those of us who are still alive anyway - get together, maybe we can put an end to . . ." Suddenly, she stopped in mid-sentence, gave a choking gasp and fell to the ground, the barbed head of a harpoon lodged in her back. Sophie caught a glimpse of someone running away. It was too dark for her to see who it was, but she knew it must be the person who had fired the harpoon, that they must be trying to get clear of this zone before it became forbidden in . . . How long did they have?

Just as she was about to check her watch, Shane and Benita caught up with her. Shane took one look at Daljit, lying on the ground with a harpoon in her back, and hurried over to her, kneeling beside her and trying desperately to pull the weapon out. Thanks to the barbs, his efforts proved futile and he was left staring helplessly at the body of the girl who had shared his number, the girl who had sat next to him on the bus, the girl who had . . . Realisation hit him all at once; flinging back his head, tears pouring down his cheeks, he screamed out her name.

"DALJIT!"

All sense of reason left him; he knew Daljit was already dead, but he did not want to believe she would never get up again. Like a child too young to grasp that death is permanent, he shook her lifeless body, pleading with her to "wake up", promising her that he would make her well again if she would only speak to him. "Please, Daljit," he said, choking on his sobs. "I don't want to lose you . . ." But it was too late; he had already lost her to a game which had now claimed nearly thirty young lives.

* * *

Sophie hurried to Shane's side and tried to pull him to his feet. "Come on - we've got to get out of here."

But his only response was to push her away, grief giving him added strength. "Then take Benita and go!" he told her, finally realising his efforts to revive Daljit were in vain. One of his fellow students had killed the girl he loved, not that the two of them had been as intimate with each other as Lauren and Michael; Daljit had not been ready to go further than kissing. Now, thanks to this sadistic game, this game which took a class of students and turned them into killers, they would never have the chance. Daljit was gone and with her went Shane's will to live. "I can't leave Daljit," he added, looking down at her body but trying to avoid looking at the harpoon in her back.

Sophie, however, was not ready to give up and tried once more to get Shane away from Daljit. "There's nothing you can do for her! And this will be a forbidden zone soon - we've got to get clear!" But, even as she said it, she knew there was no way Shane was going to do as she told him and walk away from Daljit's body. Daljit, who had dreamed of getting the students together and fighting those who had forced them into this nightmare, had instead become the Program's latest fatality. Whoever had fired the harpoon must be well clear of Zone 29 by now, but Sophie had no time to worry about who it might be. All that mattered was that any living students who were in this zone after three o'clock faced certain death.

"You think I don't know?!" Shane retorted. "Daljit never wanted to take part in this - and neither do I! And don't give me any of that crap about avenging her, because that's not what she'd want! So get out of here if you want, but I'm staying!"

"Shane . . ." Sophie tried one more time to make him see reason.

"Just piss off and leave me alone!" Shane left no doubt that he was not prepared to live in a world that did not include Daljit; he felt he had nothing to live for now that she was dead. Even if someone had told him he was still young, that he had his whole life ahead of him, plenty of time for him to meet another girl who, even if she would never be Daljit, he might also grow to love, it would have made no difference. As far as he was concerned, Daljit was the only girl for whom he would ever have such feelings; he would rather die than live without her.

Sensing she was beaten and knowing they could not afford to waste any more time, Sophie told Benita to "come on". The two friends did not look back as they walked away from Shane, leaving him kneeling beside Daljit's body.

* * *

A shaft of moonlight fell across Daljit's face as Shane looked down at her. Cliched as the idea was, he couldn't help thinking she looked as though she was merely sleeping; she had that peaceful, relaxed look about her. Only the harpoon lodged in her back shattered the illusion, reminding him that this was a sleep from which she would never awaken. And she wasn't the only one; all over the village, most of his other classmates also lay dead, two of them close by, though it was too dark to see. But not too dark for the student who had fired the harpoon to bring Daljit down, he reflected, taking some comfort from the fact that he would soon be joining her.

But that didn't change the fact that they should not have been in this position in the first place, that the whole concept behind the Program was morally wrong. From their refuge in the farmhouse, Shane and Daljit had dreamed of starting a revolution against the Government, of gathering their fellow students together and fighting back against the regime which forced teenagers to kill each other. But their dreams had been in vain; not only had they recruited just two of their classmates to their cause, Daljit had been killed. Daljit, the girl he loved . . .

It wasn't fair - then again, hardly anything in the Great European Republic was fair. But Shane no longer cared about making a stand against the Government, not even via futile gestures similar to those Kieran had used at the school. He was not going to throw his life away to make a political point; he was going to follow Daljit into the afterlife. At least that was what he hoped. He had no idea what, if anything, awaited him after his mortal life ended and he knew it would end very soon; this zone would shortly become forbidden and, when that happened, the collar around his neck would explode. But maybe he had time to give her one final kiss.

He leaned close to her, brushing a lock of her dark hair off her forehead, and touched his lips against her cheek. She was still warm - her body had not yet had time to cool down - but he knew she would never respond to him, or anyone else, again. The student who had fired the harpoon at her had seen to that and Shane found himself hoping whoever it was would not go on to win this cruel game. But he quickly dismissed such thoughts and planted a kiss on Daljit's cheek.

"See you soon," he whispered as he pulled away. Moments later, the collar around his neck emitted a rapid beeping sound and a red light began to flash. He had reached the point of no return; once the computer at the village hall sent the signal to detonate a collar, there was no stopping it.

* * *

Sophie and Benita were in Zone 22, standing on the edge of the road, when they heard an explosion. Knowing what had caused that explosion - they had heard the same sound when Kieran deliberately triggered the explosives in his collar - they exchanged glances as they realised what it meant. Yet another student from 11G was dead; out of a class of thirty-six, less than a quarter remained. But, more than that . . .

"He wouldn't leave her," Benita whispered, remembering the moment she and Shane had found Daljit lying on the ground with a harpoon in her back. Even as Shane attempted to pull the weapon out, she had sensed that his efforts would be in vain, that Daljit was past saving. And, when he realised the awful truth, he had insisted on staying beside the girl he loved, knowing that the zone they were both in was about to become forbidden, that he too would die as a result.

"I know," Sophie said. She had tried to persuade Shane to leave Daljit and save himself, but he had adamantly refused, even though he knew what would happen to him if he was in Zone 29 after 3:00 AM. Suddenly, a sobering thought occurred to her; apart from herself and Benita, all the students who had been, at the very least, close friends were now dead. Lauren and Michael, Maria and Molly, Devon and the other members of the nearest thing Parkwood had to a gang - and now Shane and Daljit. Would she, or Benita, or both be next? How long would it be before at least one of them joined the list of fallen students?

But she quickly dismissed the thought. If it happened, it happened and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. Even so, she couldn't help thinking that, if she and Benita had met up with Shane and Daljit earlier, when more of their fellow students were still alive, they might have stood a chance of actually doing something about Osborne. SAP, the organisation Shane and Daljit had set up to oppose the Program, might have been viable if they been able to obtain more recruits. On the other hand, there was no guarantee that anyone would have listened; besides, Osborne would more than likely have detonated the students' collars if he suspected they were plotting against him.

In any case, it was too late now. Shane and Daljit were dead and all Sophie and Benita could do was try to stay alive as long as possible. Which, for at least one of them, would not be very long . . .

* * *

They crossed over the road and entered Zone 16, one of the zones which contained cottages. Taking shelter in a cottage which used to belong to an elderly couple until the Government forced the residents out in preparation for the Program, they spent the remainder of the night watching through the windows, constantly on the alert for their fellow students. There was little doubt in Sophie's mind that at least some of those who had managed to survive so far must be willing participants in this sick game, though she could not tell how many. But she and Benita were not prepared to take chances, so they kept watch, prepared to fight if they had to, knowing only one of them could get out of the village alive.

Gradually, the sky began to lighten, marking the start of another day, another day trapped in a nightmare game where the only rule was that everyone had to try and kill everyone else. And, as a stark reminder of where they were and why they were here, Osborne's 6:00 AM announcement followed soon after, projected through the speakers which had been hidden somewhere in the room.

"A very good morning to you all. It looks like being a fine and sunny day - too bad I've got to spoil it with news of yet more untimely deaths. But here are the names of the students who have died since my last announcement. Boy #9: Shane Grantham, Girl #9: Daljit Sandhu and Boy #12: Antony Cartwright. That is all. Oh, and Shane died because he lingered in a zone that was about to become forbidden, so I want you all to listen carefully as I announce the next three forbidden zones."

"The first of these will be Zone 21 at 7:00 AM, followed by Zone 32 at 9:00 AM and Zone 10 at 11:00 AM. Remember, unless you want to suffer the same fate as young Shane, you must get out of those zones by the designated times. This concludes the 6:00 AM announcement - if you survive until noon, I'll speak to you again then."

As Osborne finished addressing the remaining students, Sophie and Benita exchanged glances, neither of them aware that the expression on the other's face mirrored her own. They had been prepared to hear Shane and Daljit's names read out, but not Antony's. And, now that he was dead, any hope of neutralising the collars had died with him; no-one else in 11G had the computer skills necessary. That meant there was only one option left; they must play this game out to the end, even though they knew only one of them could survive it. They must even be prepared to kill each other if necessary, the only alternative being certain death for both of them.

"Which of us are left?" Sophie wondered out loud. "And how many are there?"

Benita began counting off the names of the remaining students on her fingers. "Well, there's you and me - that's two. Then there's Joseph, Abigail and Aidan, which makes five . . ." She paused, trying to recall who else was still alive. "Oh, and Lana and Eleanor. That's seven altogether."

Sophie frowned as she heard the news. Seven students - five girls and two boys - were still alive, but six of them were destined to join the list of those who had already lost their lives in the Program. That meant this deadly game was almost over, though that was small comfort when she knew the price the winning student, whoever it might be, would have to pay. By now, everyone who had managed to survive so far had been, at the very least, an accessory in the deaths of one or more of their classmates; she herself had killed three of them. And, if she was to get out of here alive, she must be prepared to kill again.

Killing, always killing - three more students had died since midnight. There was no telling who would be next, but Sophie knew that, with so few players remaining, this game was now deadlier than ever. She thought of Daljit, felled by a harpoon wielded by one of her fellow students; she did not know whose pack had come with a harpoon, but at least whoever it was no longer had that weapon. Since Daljit had died in a zone which was about to become forbidden, her killer had chosen to escape without retrieving the harpoon.

* * *

Unknown to Sophie and Benita, Aidan, the student who had fired the harpoon which killed Daljit, had passed through Zone 16 earlier. By now, he had entered the churchyard in Zone 6, where he had found the bodies of four of his classmates. Adam, shot in the head and back, was sprawled on the ground by the lych gate. Antony lay at the foot of the church tower; since his neck was broken, Aidan guessed he must have fallen from the tower. Or had he jumped? Or been pushed? Not that it mattered; he was still dead. As was Jonathan, who had been stabbed in the stomach and left for dead on one of the old tombstones.

Finally, Dani lay on the path. Like Adam, she had been shot, though it was impossible to tell if the same student had been responsible for both deaths. But that mattered little to Aidan; having been forced to leave his harpoon behind when he fled from Zone 29, he needed a replacement weapon and that meant scavenging from the bodies of the dead. He'd found nothing useful on the three boys, but maybe Dani had something.

Searching her pack, he soon found her kukri and smiled to himself as he slipped the curved dagger into his own pack.


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

_Students remaining: 7_

Since the Program began, Lana had forced Eleanor to be her accomplice in the murders of three of their fellow students; Christina, Deepak and Theo were dead because of the two of them. And it was becoming increasingly clear that Lana was not finished yet, that she was prepared to kill again. And Eleanor had an uneasy feeling she knew who the victim would be; as far as Lana was concerned, her usefulness was almost at an end.

Eleanor had regretted teaming up with Lana almost from the start, but her lack of a proper weapon meant she hadn't had much choice. By teaming up with a fellow student, she at least had someone to watch her back, but she hadn't counted on Lana being one of those who were actually prepared to take part in this sick game. In spite of Osborne's warning about what would happen if the students failed to co-operate, Eleanor had not believed any of her classmates would actually obey him and start killing each other. True, there were those who didn't get along, but no-one in 11G disliked any of the others enough to want them dead. By the time she realised what Lana's intentions were, it was too late.

They sat in one of the farm outbuildings, Lana toying with the siangham which used to be Deepak's weapon, Eleanor thinking miserably of the things she had left behind. There was little chance that she would ever see her parents, her sister or her rabbit again - in fact, no chance. If she tried to escape, Lana would be more than capable of killing her; whether it was with the siangham or the garrotte made little difference. And, even if she could somehow get away, there were still five other students to worry about, students who had weapons and, it seemed, were prepared to use them. How far would she get armed with only a box of matches?

Eleanor knew her only hope of surviving this game was to get as far away from Lana and the other students as possible, then wait for them to wipe each other out. But, with much of the village now off limits, there was no way she could avoid the others long enough to outlive them all. She was in a truly hopeless situation, facing death whether she stayed with Lana or tried to go it alone. And it was in the realisation that there was nothing she could do to save herself that she came to a grim conclusion.

Lana had to die. If nothing else, Eleanor had to take out the girl who had forced her to be an accomplice to murder. The only question was, how was she going to do it? Lana was bigger and stronger than her, so attempting to get one of her weapons would only result in Lana claiming a fourth kill. Something Eleanor suspected she was planning to do anyway . . . If only she had been able to get her hands on a gun of some sort, she wouldn't be in this mess now. But all she had was the matches which had been her supplied "weapon".

Matches, Eleanor realised as she took the box out of her pack and examined it. Matches could be used to start a fire and a fire could burn someone to death. But simply striking a match and attempting to set light to this building with Lana inside it would not be enough; she, Eleanor, had to be certain her plan would work. If the fire failed to take hold, if Lana managed to escape, all her efforts would be wasted. Whatever happened, she had to be certain that Lana's name would be among those Osborne read out at the noon announcement. Eleanor disliked the thought of killing innocent students, but a girl who had already killed three times and, she suspected, was also planning to kill her was another matter. Kill or be killed - the words echoed in her head once more.

* * *

It was just as she was pondering how she was going to carry out her plan to burn Lana alive that Eleanor spotted the can of petrol in the corner. Good - it suited her purpose. She made her way over to the corner, picked up the can and lugged it into the centre of the room. Before Lana could stop her, she unscrewed the cap and started sloshing the contents everywhere, making sure as much of the petrol as possible landed between the door and Lana. She had to be certain that the girl she was trying to kill could not escape. Of course, since there was no other way in or out of this building, this also meant she was cutting off her own escape route, but she no longer cared about that. All that mattered was eliminating Lana.

Once the can of petrol had been emptied, Eleanor tossed it to one side and pulled out her matches. It was at this point that Lana realised what Eleanor's plan was, why petrol had just been poured everywhere. And she reacted as most people would under such circumstances - she panicked. "W - what are you doing?!" Had she kept her head, she might have attempted to take Eleanor out and make her escape, but she was rooted to the spot, unable to move as Eleanor opened her box of matches and took one out.

"Something I should have done a long time ago!" With that, Eleanor struck her match and tossed it into the petrol she had just poured all over every surface.

With so much flammable liquid around, it was not long before the whole building was engulfed by fire. Unable to escape, Lana and Eleanor could do nothing but crouch on the floor, bracing themselves for the inevitable moment when the flames consumed them. Eleanor had taken a simple box of matches and, with a little help from a can of petrol, turned it into a weapon which would kill not only Lana but also herself. In a matter of minutes, two more students would join the ever-expanding list of the dead.

* * *

Sophie and Benita could see the burning building from the cottage in Zone 16 that was their current refuge; Zone 28, where the farm outbuildings stood, was directly across the road. They knew there was no way this fire could have started by itself, that one of their fellow students must have started it. But was it an accident or had someone set the building on fire deliberately? It was impossible to tell, but the question of whether the fire was accidental or the result of arson paled into insignificance when you considered the possibility that . . .

"Do you think there's someone in there?" asked Benita, staring helplessly at the building, now completely engulfed by fire.

Sophie shook her head slowly. "If there is, they've had it. No way anyone could survive that." She shuddered, unable to imagine a more horrific death than being burned alive, and wondered if someone had indeed started the fire deliberately. Had one of her fellow students trapped another fellow student in that building, then set it on fire? A few days ago, she would not have imagined any of her classmates to be capable of such an act, but that was before they found themselves in the Program. Now, she knew there were students in her class (including herself) who were capable of killing others, who would turn on their own classmates for the sake of their own survival.

Not all of them, though. There were also students like Kieran, who had killed himself as a gesture of defiance, or Shane and Daljit, who had attempted to form a group to resist the Program. Not that it had done any of them much good; they had still died. Sophie remembered how Shane had refused to leave Daljit, even though he knew she was already dead, even though he knew the zone he was in was about to become forbidden. It made her wonder what she would do if she and Benita ended up in a similar situation. The two of them had grown up together and it was hard to imagine life without the girl who had been her best friend since early childhood. But, under the rules of the Program, there was no way both of them could get out of this village alive.

In some ways, if anybody was trapped in the burning building, they were lucky. At least they wouldn't have to worry about surviving at the expense of a friend.

* * *

At noon, by which time the fire had almost burnt itself out, Osborne's voice came through the speakers installed all over the village.

"Well, my young friends, it's time for another announcement. And, as is traditional at these times, I will start by updating the list of the dead. The newest additions to that list are as follows - Girl #13: Lana Matthews and Girl #14: Eleanor Holmes-Wilson. Which means only five of you are left. Congratulations to Boy #1: Aidan Jeffries, Girl #3: Abigail Wells, Girl #11: Sophie Clarke, Boy #18: Joseph Walker and Girl #18: Benita Wright for making it this far. But remember, the Program is not over yet; four of you must still die. If you want to avoid becoming one of those four, you must be prepared to survive at all costs - even if that means killing a friend."

Sophie and Benita exchanged glances, a sombre expression etched on both their faces. Osborne's words reminded them - not that they needed reminding - that one of them might have to kill the other in order to get out of here. So far, they had managed to keep each other alive, but the Program had now moved into its final stages, the point where they faced the very real possibility that it might come down to the two of them. They listened as Osborne continued his announcement.

"I will now announce the zones that will become forbidden between now and six o'clock. The first of these will be Zone 34 at 1:00 PM, followed by Zone 16 at 3:00 PM and Zone 3 at 5:00 PM. And I hardly need to remind you that you must get out of those zones by the times stated - one student has been caught in a forbidden zone already. Over and out."

Sophie got out her felt-tip and coloured in the squares on her map which corresponded to the zones Osborne had just named. The ink was beginning to run dry, but that hardly mattered now; something told her there would not be another announcement, or, if there was, she would not be around to hear it. One way or another, her fate would be determined some time between now and 6:00 PM. According to Osborne, only three students apart from herself and Benita were still alive; that meant this sick game should reach its conclusion sometime in the next few hours. The trouble was, she had no way of knowing where Aidan, Abigail and Joseph were.

She looked at her map. Since Zone 34 was scheduled to become forbidden in less than an hour, it was unlikely anyone would hang around there or in any of the nearby zones, four of which would be rendered inaccessible once Zone 34 was off limits. And Zone 3 had been inaccessible for some time, so there shouldn't be anyone in that area. Anyone living, at least. And then there was their present location, Zone 16, which would become a forbidden zone at three o'clock; that meant she and Benita would have to move again and they were rapidly running out of places to go.

* * *

"Sophie," Benita said, as Sophie put her map away, "you don't think Lana and Eleanor were . . .?" She trailed off, unable to give voice to the awful thought which had just occurred to her.

Sophie, guessing what Benita meant, could only shrug. She had not heard any shooting all morning and the last collar she had heard exploding had been Shane's. That meant Lana and Eleanor had almost certainly died in the fire, unless one of them was stabbed, or had her skull bashed in, or was attacked with an axe . . . But she had no way of knowing; the only way she would find out was if she survived this sick game and got to hear about it on the news. Even so, the knowledge that at least one of the two girls could have been trapped in the burning building made her shudder. She did not want to imagine what the clean-up teams might find when they went to retrieve Lana and Eleanor's bodies at the end of the Program.

Bodies. There were now thirty-one of them scattered all over the village. Much as it disturbed her, Sophie found herself thinking about the corpses she had seen since she left the village hall at the beginning of this insane game. The first had been Lauren and Michael (the latter, she recalled, had shared Joseph's surname, though they were not related) who had most likely died in a suicide pact. She had killed Charlotte not long after and had heard (but not witnessed) Kieran's death shortly after that. And then there was Adam, whom she had shot to save Benita; Lucy, who had to be put out of her misery after she stepped on a landmine; Nicola, Benita's first and, so far, only kill; Daljit, impaled by a harpoon; Shane, who had chosen to die in a forbidden zone rather than face life without Daljit . . .

"Sophie?" Benita's voice distracted Sophie from her morbid thoughts of dead students. "Are you scared?" She looked pretty scared herself, Sophie noted, not at all like the Benita she had known nearly all her life. Possibly, the fact that the Program was nearly at an end and the knowledge of what this entailed was beginning to get to her.

"I haven't stopped being scared since I left the village hall," Sophie replied, recalling the moment she had gone out to face more than thirty potential killers. By now, most of them had been killed themselves, but that did nothing to ease her fear. If anything, the feeling that she could be the next student to fall increased with every death. It was a fear which stalked all the students, a fear made worse by the knowledge that no-one could be completely trusted in this game, that someone who had previously been your friend could end up being the one who killed you. Even at this late stage, she could not imagine herself killing Benita, or vice versa. But, if it came down to the two of them, they wouldn't have a choice.

Or rather they would have a choice, but it would be a choice between refusing to fight, in which case their collars would explode after twenty-four hours, or betraying thirteen years of friendship. Whichever way you looked at it, at least one of them would not leave the village alive.

* * *

Abigail had been driven out of Zone 10 when it became forbidden an hour before Osborne's latest announcement. As a result, she had heard the news of Lana and Eleanor's deaths from neighbouring Zone 11, though Osborne had not said how they came to die; he had not revealed that information about any of the dead students except Kieran and Shane, both of whom had been killed by their collars. Abigail suspected that was to let the students know his warnings about not interfering with the collars and staying out of the forbidden zones were not idle threats. In fact, thanks to the collars, he had the power of life and death over all the students; they had no choice but to co-operate with the Program, as failure to do so meant certain death for all of them. However, by taking part in this game, there was at least a chance that one of them might survive.

Abigail recalled seeing smoke rising from one of the farm outbuildings across the road. That, she released, meant one of the buildings was on fire and she wondered if that was what had killed Lana and Eleanor. If it was, someone must have started the blaze. Someone must have trapped the two girls in a building, poured flammable liquid everywhere and . . . Abigail did not realise how close to the truth she was getting; the only detail she had missed out was the fact that Lana and Eleanor had been together throughout the Program. That, however, was hardly surprising; Lana and Eleanor had not been in the habit of hanging out together.

Five students remained. Abigail counted off their names on her fingers - Aidan, Sophie, Joseph, Benita and herself. She had to outlive all four of her remaining classmates, but she wasn't sure how she was going to do it. Until now, her strategy had been to shoot her opponents from behind to avoid having to look into their eyes as she killed them, but she had a feeling that strategy would no longer work. By now, the only students left would be constantly on the alert, on the lookout for victims while trying to avoid becoming victims themselves.

She had to find somewhere to hide and wait out the game. But where could she go? By now, much of the village was forbidden, or at least inaccessible, meaning she had only a small area within which she could move. And, once Zone 16 became forbidden at 3:00 PM, the number of zones she could enter would be reduced even further. Her only hope was that the rest of the students were somewhere to the south of Zone 16 - at present, five zones in that area were still safe - and that they would end up wiping each other out. In the meantime, she would be safely hidden in one of the cottages she could see nearby.

But it was a very slim hope and, just as she was about to take her chances in the nearest cottage, she found out how slim that hope was. She had just pushed the gate open when Joseph emerged from the shrubbery, his pistol drawn. Before she could attempt to escape, or even draw her own gun, he opened fire, sending two bullets into her chest at close range. He watched dispassionately as Abigail, blood soaking through her t-shirt, sank to her knees. Seconds later, she was dead.

No emotion registered on Joseph's face as he looked at the body of the girl who had just become his eighth victim. He did not think about the fact that he had killed another of his classmates, shooting her in cold blood; he was playing this game to win. Now, there were just three students between him and victory.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

_Students remaining: 4_

Time was rapidly running out.

Sophie and Benita had left Zone 16 long before three o'clock, the point when it would become forbidden, and were making their way towards the church in Zone 6. Though which direction they went made little difference; at least one of them was still living on borrowed time. Most of their fellow students were dead, killed as part of the Government's sadistic Program which was supposed to teach young people to obey orders. Sophie, however, was beginning to suspect that the Program had less to do with instilling obedience and more to do with making sure the students could never trust each other, making it less likely that they would unite to overthrow those who had forced them into this situation. Not that this had prevented any students from trying, but all attempts at rebellion had ended in failure. The Government's grip on power remained as strong as ever and the Program continued relentlessly.

And it wasn't just the students who were at the mercy of the Program; any adults who tried to speak out were quickly silenced. So no-one dared to speak out, for fear they would be charged with treason, a crime which had been known to result in summary executions. There was nothing anyone could do to prevent their loved ones from being selected for the Program; all secondary schools in each State were included in the draw which determined which class would be taking part. Even if you sent your kids to the best school you could find, there was no guarantee that their class would not be chosen should your State's turn to host the Program come round while they were still at school.

Whichever way you looked at it, the Program was very efficiently organised. Evacuating the civilian population from the chosen battleground, making the selected class believe they were going on a school trip but gassing them en route, fitting the kids with exploding collars to ensure their co-operation, cutting off phone and Internet access . . . All these meant there was no way any of the students could escape from the Program or even call for help. And, with the three-day deadline - it was hard to think of a more appropriate word - all the kids in the chosen class faced certain death if they failed to co-operate. The only way any of them could hope to survive was to play this sick game.

The trouble was, everyone else wanted to survive as well. And that meant you could never completely trust anyone, especially if you found yourself among the last students standing. Even students like Sophie and Benita, who had been friends for years, could end up having to turn on each other. Now, with so few of the others left, the chances that it would ultimately come down to the two of them were looking increasingly likely.

And how many students were left, anyway? There had been five as of Osborne's latest announcement, but Sophie and Benita had heard shooting recently, which could only mean one thing. Another of their fellow students had been eliminated, leaving only four still in the game.

* * *

As Sophie and Benita made their way through Zone 11, they came across something lying on the pavement in front of one of the cottages.

Closer inspection revealed that the object was a corpse, a sight with which they were becoming all too familiar. It was lying with its face turned away from them, so they could not tell who it was, only that the person had been female. By now, of course, most of the girls in 11G were corpses, as were most of the boys; they lay scattered all over the village, awaiting collection once the Program ended. That, Sophie knew as she knelt beside the body, could happen at any time in the next few hours, though whether she would be the one who got to leave the village alive still remained to be seen. If she was, it would be at a heavy price: the life of her best friend since early childhood. She quickly dismissed the thought and turned her dead classmate's head to face her.

"Abigail," she said, her voice barely audible. Already, her mind was reeling from the implications. Abigail had been alive when Osborne made his noon announcement, so she must have been killed some time in the last couple of hours, shot in the chest. And, since Sophie knew neither she nor Benita had done this - in fact, they hadn't even seen Abigail since the Program began - that narrowed it down to two possible killers, Aidan or Joseph. Which, she realised, meant the end of this sick game was closer than she had thought; only three students apart from herself remained.

Trying not to think about what that meant for herself and Benita, Sophie stood up and turned her back on Abigail's body. "I think we should move on," she said, her voice wavering in spite of her attempts to keep it steady. And, as she and Benita headed in the direction of Zone 12, the words Osborne had said in the village hall echoed in her mind.

"You are here for one purpose only - to kill each other."

At the time, she had wondered if she would ever be able to kill one of her fellow students. But, when Charlotte attacked her, she had reacted instinctively, killing her Form Captain in order to preserve her own life. Was that how it was for the others? Had any of them killed because their lives were in danger and the only way they could keep themselves alive was to take a life? Had any of them killed in a fit of paranoia, believing (rightly or wrongly) that everyone was out to get them? Or, worse, had any of them actually chosen to take part in the Program? If so, who? Jordan, the class bully, might have been a likely candidate, but his name had been on the list of the dead at the first noon announcement. And she could not imagine any of the others being willing to play this sick game.

But, whatever the reasons behind all the killings, the result was the same; thirty-two students were dead.

* * *

Sophie knew it was only a question of time before she and Benita must face off against Aidan and Joseph in a battle which only one of the four students could survive. She had not seen Joseph since the Program began and she had only had a brief glimpse of Aidan; he was the student she had seen running away after Daljit was killed, though she was unaware of his identity. It had been dark at the time and her attention had been focused on Daljit, lying on the ground with a harpoon in her back. She and the others hadn't even known they were crossing Aidan's territory (or at least it had been until Osborne named it as a forbidden zone) much less that Aidan had already killed Harry and Katelynne.

Now, however, Aidan and Joseph were the only other students left. Once they were dead, Sophie and Benita would have no choice but to turn on each other; their only hope of avoiding this was for one of them to be killed by one of the boys. Always assuming Aidan and Joseph didn't take both of them out. Whichever way you looked at it, the picture was grim: four teenagers, the only survivors out of a class of thirty-six, three of whom had, at most, a matter of hours to live. And, unless a winner was determined before the three-day time limit expired, all four of them would die.

That meant they had until tomorrow night to resolve this game. But, if the rule which said everyone would die if there were no deaths within twenty-four hours of the last fatality was taken into account, there could be even less time. Especially now that only a handful of students remained out of the original thirty-six. Sophie thought things over. The shots which killed Abigail had come just after 1:00 PM, so, if her death was the only one announced at the 6:00 PM announcement and no deaths were reported in any of the three following announcements, the remaining students would have just over an hour for all but one of them to die. Otherwise . . . Sophie suddenly became acutely aware of the collar around her neck.

* * *

"Benita," Sophie said as they entered the churchyard, "in case I don't get another chance, thanks for being my friend."

"You too." And, with that, Benita flung her arms around Sophie and pulled her into an embrace of the sort they had often shared when they were younger. Perhaps it was the knowledge that they had, at most, only one more day together, but Sophie and Benita felt closer than they had ever been. They had been best friends for thirteen years, ever since they were three-year-olds playing with their dolls, and had been together throughout their childhood. They had been together throughout the Program as well, but that would soon be over; at least one of them would never have chance to grow up. So, knowing the end was near, they chose this moment to thank each other for the years they had spent together.

Pulling away from the embrace, Sophie looked at the church. It was just the sort of church she had imagined herself getting married in one day; she had pictured herself in an ivory gown, standing in the churchyard with her new husband and a row of bridesmaids in satin dresses, one of whom was Benita. Now, that dream would never become a reality; even if she got out of the village alive, there would be no Benita among her future bridesmaids. In fact, there would not even be a church wedding. Somehow, the fact that some of her fellow students had died in this churchyard made the place seem less holy, as though it had been desecrated. And every church she saw from now on would remind her of this.

For the first time in her life, Sophie seriously questioned the existence of God. God, she had been told in her RE lessons, was supposed to be all-powerful. But, if that was so, why did He allow the Program to continue? Why did He not do something to stop this sick game where kids had to kill each other? It seemed whether God existed or not made no difference; most of her classmates were still dead, killed as part of a sadistic game designed to keep the Republic's youth in line.

In any case, if she managed to survive this nightmare, her plans for the future would no longer include any fancy church weddings.

* * *

All the while, Osborne continued to monitor the students' progress from the safety of the village hall, not that there were many students left to monitor. There had been another death shortly after the noon announcement, which meant only three more kids had to die before the Program was resolved. Of course, there was still the possibility that time would run out, that there would either be no deaths for twenty-four hours or the three-day limit would expire with two or more students still alive. But that rarely happened; the time limits were there simply to make sure the Program progressed, that the students were made aware of the fact that it was kill or be killed. Otherwise, the game was liable to drag on for days, even weeks.

However, there didn't appear to be much risk of time running out in this game. All four surviving students were somewhere in the vicinity of the village church, their movements restricted to those five zones since Zone 16 became the latest to join the list of forbidden zones. And, at this stage in the Program, they would all be focused on surviving at all costs, prepared to kill whoever stood in their way. At least Aidan and Joseph were, but Sophie and Benita were another matter; even now, the tracking devices in their collars showed that they were still together, as they had been for most of the Program. In fact, they had not been apart since they met up on the first morning.

Osborne wondered if this was part of a strategy devised by either Sophie or Benita. Was one of them planning to wait until they were the last two left, then kill the other and claim victory? They had both made kills during the game, so what was to stop one of them from turning on the other? Yes, Osborne mused, that had to be it. There was no other explanation for them still being together this late in the game.

Especially when you considered the fact that friendship and altruism were major weaknesses in this game which pitted an entire class of students against each other. While it was not unusual for students to team up, they did so knowing they might have to turn on each other eventually. The rule was that a maximum of one student could leave the Program alive; there were no exceptions because the final two happened to be friends, or even lovers.

* * *

Sophie and Benita were crouching among the gravestones, waiting for either Aidan or Joseph to show up. If they did see one of the two boys, whoever was nearest was going to try and take him out, even if that meant risking her own life in the process. Of course, there was the possibility that Aidan and Joseph had teamed up, at least until they had eliminated Sophie and Benita. Somehow, Sophie doubted it, though.

What she did know, however, was that the game was not over yet, far from it. The Program only ended when all but one of the students were dead or when everyone's collars exploded due to time running out. And, whether Aidan and Joseph were working together or separately made little difference; at this stage in the game, everyone had only one ambition, to survive. But it was an ambition which only one of them could fulfil. And that meant all the others had to die; there couldn't be any exceptions. Even if the final two had been friends before their class was selected for the Program, they still had to be prepared to kill each other. However, the mutual fear and distrust the Program generated generally destroyed any vestiges of friendship between the students by the time the game reached its final stages.

In fact, Sophie thought to herself, that was probably why Lauren and Michael had killed themselves; it was the only way they could be sure they would not end up in the impossible position of deciding which of them should die and which should do the killing. She wondered if there had been other couples in previous Programs who had done the same thing, not that she was likely to find out. All she knew was that, some time between now and tomorrow night, all but one of the four remaining students must die.

And she had another, more pressing, concern; her bladder was getting uncomfortably full. When she could, she used the toilets in people's houses, but, since she and Benita were lying in wait for Aidan and/or Joseph right now, she did not want to move from the churchyard. In the end, however, the call of nature prevailed and she got to her feet. "Be right back," she said to Benita, before leaving their hiding place. Well aware of the constant danger she was in, especially now that the Program had entered its final stage, she kept a tight hold on her handgun (originally Lauren's weapon) as she made her way across the churchyard.

She didn't go far, just to a quiet corner well away from any graves. There, she checked to make sure no-one was nearby (though there were now only two people she had to worry about) before unzipping her jeans and pulling them and her panties down to her ankles. As she crouched down on the ground, the thought crossed her mind that going to the toilet outside was a lot easier for boys. For one thing, they only had to adopt this undignified posture when they were . . . But she chose not to dwell on that subject.

Just as she had finished what she was doing, she heard the unmistakable sounds of a struggle. And they were coming from the direction she had just come from, the direction where she had last seen Benita.

* * *

Sophie was on her feet in an instant, pulling up her jeans and hurrying towards the fight she could hear going on. Under her current circumstances, she would have been well within her rights to ignore it and walk away, but thirteen years of friendship could not be erased just like that. She and Benita had always looked out for each other and being in the Program had not changed that. Logically, she knew it was a waste of time to try and save someone you might have to kill later, even if they were your best friend. But she was not thinking logically right now; her only thought was to reach Benita before whoever was attacking her (either Aidan, or Joseph, or both) did something horrible to her.

She arrived just in time to see Benita lying on the ground with Aidan sitting astride her chest, holding some sort of blade. Benita was struggling to force Aidan off her, but he was too heavy. Then, before Sophie could take any action, he raised the blade in his hand, the metal glinting in the afternoon sun as he slashed Benita's throat. Ruthlessly and efficiently . . .

"No!" Sophie yelled, raising her gun and taking aim at the boy still straddling her best friend. But, even as she fired two bullets into Aidan's chest, she knew they were too little and too late.


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

_Students remaining: 3_

Sophie dragged Aidan off Benita, noting with some satisfaction that one of her bullets had got him right in the heart. She then turned her attention to Benita, who lay on the ground, her life slipping away as blood poured out of the open wound in her throat. The sight of it made Sophie feel physically sick, but she told herself she had to be strong for Benita's sake. Her best friend of thirteen years was dying and all she could do was watch. So the least she could do was try to be strong.

She knelt beside Benita and took hold of her hand. "It's all right - I'm here," she whispered, the words catching in her throat. Part of her wished she could wake up and find that this had all been a bad dream, that she and her classmates were in the Youth Hostel they were supposed to be staying in, that no-one had been killed. But she had to face the fact that this was really happening; she was in the Program and Benita was about to become the thirty-fourth student to die.

Benita seemed to be trying to say something, but her larynx had been severed and she could only mouth silently. Sophie felt tears pricking her eyes as she remembered everything they had been through together, from the day they first met as three-year-olds to their struggle to survive the Program. But it was a struggle which only one of them could win; they had both known this moment would come sooner or later. Benita had just minutes left to live and there was nothing Sophie could do to alter her prognosis, not that it would have done much good anyway. Saving Benita when Adam was about to shoot her with his bow and arrows had been one thing; the Program was still in its early stages and Sophie thought, if they teamed up, at least one of them might have a chance. But, with just three students left, attempting to heal Benita now would be pointless, even if she hadn't been mortally wounded. There was no sense in saving a life you might then have to take.

"Don't try to talk. Remember . . ." Sophie racked her brain for a happy memory involving herself and Benita. Something that had nothing to do with the Program . . . "Remember when we were fairies in the school play?" As she spoke, she recalled how she and Benita, seven years old at the time, had been dressed up in pink tutus with matching ballet pumps and glittery wings. She could not remember any details about the play, but she clearly remembered their costumes.

Benita nodded feebly, her strength rapidly failing. She managed a weak smile, before she finally slipped away, leaving Sophie to close her eyelids for the last time.

* * *

Sophie couldn't bring herself to leave Benita's side, even though she knew her friend was now lost forever. The tears which had pricked her eyes moments before now began to fall, tracing their way down her cheeks. Never again, was the one thought in her mind, never again would she and Benita hang out together. Never again would they go clothes shopping on Saturday afternoon, tease each other about boys they fancied, go round to each other's houses. Benita was dead, a victim of the Program, the Government's sick game which forced classmates to murder each other. And Aidan, the boy responsible for her death, was dead too; Sophie had shot him even though she knew trying to save Benita was futile.

Futile, just as it was futile to try and avoid playing this game according to the Government's sick rules. The only way you could avoid becoming caught up in the bloodshed was to kill yourself; there was no other means of escape. And, as she knelt beside the body of her best friend, Sophie was briefly tempted by the idea. She could shoot herself as Lauren and Michael had done, follow Kieran's example and try to force her collar off, even deliberately wander into a forbidden zone. Leaving Joseph as the default winner . . .

But she had not taken such drastic action at the start, so why should she do so now? Especially when she had been caught up in the bloodshed from the moment she killed Charlotte, followed shortly after by Adam. The latter had been the first student she had killed knowing who it was she was killing, but she had not hesitated; she had shot him before he could put an arrow through Benita's head. Whether she wanted to or not, she had ended up playing the game; it was the only way she could hope to stay alive. Now, most of her classmates were dead, but she was one of the last two students left.

And, she thought, she owed it to Benita to try and get out of here. Which meant she would have to face Joseph and try to kill him before he did the same to her. Having not seen him since the Program began, she had no idea what weapon (or weapons) he had or how he had been playing the game. All she knew was that, since he had made it this far, he must have got lucky with his pack - either that or he'd scavenged a weapon from one of the dead students. In any case, she would have to take him out, adding a fifth student to her list of kills.

The faces of the four students she had killed already flashed through her mind. Charlotte, her Form Captain; Adam, one of Devon's band of troublemakers; Lucy, who had dreamed of being a dancer; Aidan, who had killed Benita . . . Even as she fired the bullets which ended his life, she had known it was too late, that Benita had been fatally wounded. She, Sophie, had only been gone for a matter of minutes, so Aidan must have been hiding somewhere nearby, ready to attack should the opportunity arise. No doubt, he had been hoping to get one or the other of them alone; there was no way he could take on both of them, especially now that he no longer had his harpoon, though Sophie didn't know about that. She felt no resentment towards him, just a sense of what she could only describe as relief that he had saved her from a terrible dilemma.

"At least we won't have to worry about being the last two left," she whispered to Benita, even though she knew her friend could no longer hear her. That was what she and Benita had dreaded from the start: that one of them might have to kill the other. She choked on her tears, but forced herself to continue. "Anyway, I'm going to try and win this - for both of us."

* * *

Sophie picked up Benita's bow and arrows, debating whether to take them with her. In the end, she decided not to; she had never fired a bow before and it was unlikely she would have time to practice. For a similar reason, she did not take the bola which Benita had been carrying in her pack since Nicola (the student who had originally received it) was killed. That left her with the handgun she had taken from Lauren's body, plus a spare case of bullet, and the cutlass she had received at the start of the Program. These were the weapons with which she must try to kill Joseph.

All the same, she decided she might as well check Aidan's body before she did anything else. As she knelt beside him, she noticed that he was holding a curved dagger in his right hand, a dagger which, when she examined it more closely, proved to be sharp on the inner edge. It was the kukri which had originally been in Dani's pack, though Sophie didn't know this. Just as she didn't know Aidan had started this game with the harpoon which killed Daljit. All she knew was that the blade was stained with blood - Benita's blood.

"You bastard!" she screamed, though her words were not directed at Aidan. He was just as much a victim of the Program as Benita and all the other students who had died. Instead, she was addressing the man who had been watching over everyone in 11G from the start, the man who had told thirty-six students that they would have to kill each other. Every six hours, she had been forced to listen to Osborne reading off the latest additions to the list of the dead in his callously indifferent tone.

In fact, she could hear him in her mind right now. "Boy #1: Aidan Jeffries, Girl #3: Abigail Wells and Girl #18: Benita Wright." It was so vivid that she had to check her watch to assure herself that it was only 4:15, that the next announcement was still nearly two hours away. Unless the Program was resolved before then - and she had a strange feeling it would be. She had read something about premonitions in a magazine once, but had not really believed it; now, however, she was beginning to wonder if there might be something in it. She recalled the feeling she had had earlier that she would escape from this game before the 6:00 PM announcement, though she had no way of knowing if she would escape with her life.

But she felt she owed it to Benita to at least try. She was not going to let Joseph kill her without putting up some kind of fight.

* * *

Unable to stand looking at, much less touching, the weapon which had killed Benita, Sophie threw the kukri as far across the churchyard as she could. It landed somewhere among the rows of gravestones, but she did not see precisely where and she was not about to go looking for it. Instead, she took one last look at Benita, lying with her eyes closed, looking for all the world as though she was asleep. Only the wound running laterally across her throat, just above her collar, betrayed the truth.

"Goodbye, Benita." Sophie's voice trembled slightly, but she forced herself to control it. With that, she turned her back on the body of her friend and walked away. She did not look back, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the path ahead. Not that she had much choice about her destination; by now, there were only five zones in the whole village that were both safe and accessible. Everywhere else was either a forbidden zone or surrounded by forbidden zones. More as an excuse to give herself something to do than anything else, she took out her map, now creased from being repeatedly folded and unfolded, and started counting the squares which she had coloured red.

Twenty-one squares, half the total number, now marked zones which it was certain death to try and enter. The instant she set foot in any of the forbidden zones, her collar would transmit a signal to the computer in the village hall and she would suffer the same fate as Shane. Shane, who had chosen to die rather than face life without the girl he loved; he and Daljit had been dead for nearly fourteen hours now, their bodies (or whatever was left of them after Shane's collar exploded) still in Zone 29. In total, thirty-four bodies were now scattered all over the village and it would not be long before a thirty-fifth body joined it.

Sophie put her map away and moved on. She had no way of knowing if the thirty-fifth body would be her own or Joseph's, but she was determined to make sure it would be the latter. Now that only two students were left, the game was coming down to the wire, the point where she and Joseph were just one kill away from getting out of here. She had no real wish to kill Joseph, but it had to be done; the only alternatives were either letting him kill her or waiting for twenty-four hours to elapse, after which the exploding collars would kill both of them. Either way, she felt she would be letting Benita down.

It had to be done. This was the only way Sophie could justify to herself the fact that she would not be killing Joseph in self defence, or to save a friend, or even as an act of mercy. It would be premeditated murder, a line she had so far not crossed.

* * *

Joseph, however, had crossed that line long ago. From the moment he left the village hall at the start of the game, he had been an active player, determined to win no matter what the cost. As a result, he had quickly become the most prolific killer out of the thirty-six students, with eight kills to his credit. And, while some of the students might have had a few qualms about being directly responsible for so many deaths, Joseph was a realist. Osborne had said it was kill or be killed and he, Joseph, had chosen to kill.

Of course, the fact that he was a natural loner helped somewhat; it meant he did not have to overcome the bonds of friendship in order to kill his classmates. Friendship was a weakness in this game anyway. Friends who stuck together invariably died together; his killing of first Maria and Molly, then Devon and two members of his band of troublemakers proved it. No, if you wanted to win this game, you had to fight on your own.

It did not occur to him that there had been an element of luck involved on both occasions. Had Molly's gun been real, not a joke gun which "fired" a flag with the word _BANG!_ printed on it, she might have been able to take him out. And then there was Devon, Liam and Daniel, who had got themselves so drunk that they hadn't even realised they were in danger until it was too late. If they had kept their wits about them, his visit to the village pub might have ended very differently; not only had they outnumbered him by three to one, their packs had all come with decent weapons.

But that thought was the last thing on Joseph's mind. All he saw was five kids who, due to carelessness or being unlucky with their packs, had turned out to be easy kills. As for Yasmin, Dani and Abigail, the three students who had been alone when he killed them, they were just three less obstacles between him and getting out of here. Yasmin, he recalled, had been the first student to die at his hands. He had come across her by chance barely an hour after all the students had left the village hall, but he had not hesitated to take her out. In this game, everyone was your enemy and you had to kill them before they killed you.

Besides, he was playing this game to win and the only way he could hope to do so was to kill. This was no time to worry about the fact that the people he was killing were his own classmates.

* * *

Right now, he was searching the churchyard for more victims, not that there were many left. As of the noon announcement, there had been only five students remaining and he'd killed Abigail around an hour after that. And hadn't he heard shooting not long ago? If so, there could potentially be just two, or possibly three, students (including himself) still standing. You could now literally count the number of students in 11G on the fingers of one hand.

Of course, it was possible that whoever had been shot had only been wounded, but Joseph doubted it. At this stage, any students still in the Program would be psyched up to the point where they aimed to kill whenever they attacked; you could not hold back in this game and expect to get away with it, not when it was kill or be killed. The rule which said all the remaining students would get blown up if twenty-four hours passed with no deaths, or if a winner hadn't emerged after three days, was there for a reason. It meant the students were faced with a choice between certain death for all of them and a chance of survival for one of them. And Joseph had decided he preferred the latter option.

Presently, he came across two corpses lying where there had been no corpses before; that meant they must have been killed recently. Looking closer, he discovered that one was Aidan and the other was Benita. Aidan had been shot in the chest - that must be the reason behind the gunfire he had heard recently - and Benita had had her throat cut. Joseph could not tell who was responsible for these deaths, but the list of possible suspects was now pretty short. But the identity of the killer, or more likely killers, hardly mattered; Joseph's only thought was that this meant the Program was almost over.

The only students left were himself and Sophie.

* * *

Joseph was, by now, a seasoned killer, but he knew he would have to be prepared if he was going to meet Sophie in the final confrontation of the Program. He had the pistol he had received at the start, but his encounter with Abigail had further depleted his supply of bullets and he needed to be sure he would be able to take Sophie out - and not in the sense of going on a date. He recalled the hammer he had taken from Antony's pack, but decided to keep that as a last resort; he preferred to kill his victims from a distance. And, for that, he needed a projectile weapon, something like . . .

. . . the bow and arrows he could see lying on the ground not far from Benita. This was probably the weapon she had been using, but he had no way of knowing if the bow and arrows had been in her pack or had been scavenged from one of the dead students. It hardly mattered, though; she no longer had any use for them.

But he did. Joseph picked up the bow and sheaf of arrows, recalling as he did so that Sophie and Benita had been best friends for as long as he had known them, probably even longer. How ironic, then, that he might end up killing one of them with the other's weapon.


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

_Students remaining: 2_

Sophie thought the village might have been a very pleasant place under other circumstances. Circumstances which did not involve a class of students being forced to kill each other until only one of them was left alive. Circumstances where she had not just watched her best friend since early childhood die and been unable to do anything to save her. Memories of Benita flooded her mind, even though she knew she should be concentrating on her own survival right now; Joseph, her potential murderer, must be somewhere nearby.

She glanced in the direction of the lych gate, where she could still see Adam's corpse lying where she had left it. She had killed him to save Benita, she recalled, thinking back to that first morning in the village. Benita, who was now a corpse herself - Sophie had known when she shot Aidan that it was too late to save her, but she had done it anyway. But why? What had possessed her to fire her gun, even though she knew Benita was already lost?

Self-preservation - that must be it. Perhaps she had sensed on some instinctive level that, unless she took Aidan out, he would come after her next. Survive at all costs was the order of the day right now; you could not afford to hesitate when faced with a potential killer. And, at this late stage in the Program, everyone was a potential killer, even if you had known each other for years, as Sophie and Aidan had done. So, if you wanted to stay alive, you had to be prepared to kill; otherwise, you would end up dead. That was what had happened to all the students in each of the classes selected for the Program who could not - or would not - kill their own classmates. And Sophie's class had been no exception.

Or had she been acting out of a need to take revenge? Since Aidan had just fatally wounded her best friend, had she killed him in a fit of grief-stricken rage? And what if her role and Benita's had been reversed? Would Benita have taken Aidan out in order to avenge her? Somehow, Sophie doubted it, remembering how troubled Benita had been when she killed Nicola. That had been the first and, as it turned out, only time Benita had caused the death of a fellow student; Sophie, by contrast, now had four kills to her credit. In any case, she had killed Aidan - why she had done so mattered little, especially when her own life was still in danger. As it had been from the moment this sick game began . . .

As Sophie walked around the perimeter of the church, thinking over the events of the last couple of days, she was stopped in her tracks by the sight of someone standing by one of the gravestones, holding a pistol.

* * *

Joseph - there was no-one else it could be now - levelled his pistol the second he saw Sophie, preparing to do what he had done to eight students already. Throughout this game, he had dispatched his opponents without a second thought and now was no different. Part of him thought it was too bad it had to be Sophie; she was a pretty decent girl, even though he had never paid much attention to her. But there was that other side to him, the loner, the side which discouraged him from getting too close to anyone. That was the side which had enabled him to do what he had to do in order to get this far; now, all he had to do was squeeze the trigger and that would be it. He would be the winner of this game.

But Sophie was not just going to stand there and let Joseph shoot her. The instant she heard the click of his gun, she ducked round the side of the church; seconds later, she had the satisfaction of hearing the bullet ricocheting harmlessly off a nearby headstone. Gripping her own gun, she peered cautiously round the corner, hoping she might be able to counterattack. She barely avoided Joseph's next bullet, which grazed her ear just as she ducked out of sight once more.

Joseph swore under his breath. Throughout the Program, he had never missed his target, but Sophie had just caused him to waste two bullets. Bullets he could not afford to waste, not when he was down to his last pack of ammo; though he had obtained back-up weapons in the form of Antony's hammer and the bow and arrows he had taken from Benita's body, he had hoped the bullets he had left would be enough to enable him to win. Right from the start, he had been playing this game to win; he no longer saw his opponents as human beings, but as playing pieces that had to be eliminated one by one until a single piece was left. And he meant to be that last remaining piece.

Sensing that Joseph meant business, Sophie decided her best course of action would be to adopt an evasive strategy, to keep dodging his bullets and try to take him out once his ammunition ran out. And it was bound to run out sooner or later; there was no way any of the guns supplied in the Program could come with a limitless supply of bullets. Speaking of which, she decided to conserve her own supply and only take a shot at Joseph when she could be certain of a kill. If he didn't kill her first . . .

Joseph fired again and, once again, Sophie dodged. She began weaving in and out of the gravestones, making it almost impossible for Joseph to hit her. Almost but not quite. She was just about to duck behind the stone marking the grave of the woman who coincidentally had the same name as the first student she had killed when she felt a searing pain in her leg and knew she was hit. But, though her injury pained her, she knew she could not give up; she had to try and win this for Benita's sake. In her mind, she imagined her late friend cheering her on.

"Don't give up, Sophie! Wait until he gets closer and let him have it!"

* * *

Sophie shook her head; Benita would never have said something like that. Even under these circumstances, she would never have urged her best friend to kill. Or would she? Since finding herself in the Program, Sophie had learned that she and many of her classmates were capable of things she could not have imagined them doing only a few weeks ago. When Osborne first announced that they would have to kill each other, she had found it hard to believe any of them would do so. Of course, that was where the exploding collars came in; they meant the students had no choice but to co-operate.

All the same, she still found it hard to believe that anyone would willingly play this sick game. But, judging by the look of ruthless determination on his face, Joseph was playing and, she suspected, he had been playing from the start. She wondered how many of her fellow students had died at his hands, not that it mattered right now. Her main priority was to avoid joining them. Forcing herself to ignore the pain in her leg, she staggered away, heading in the direction of the church.

Joseph watched her go, thinking she was trying to crawl away like a wounded animal that needed to be put out of its misery. In that case . . . He levelled his gun once more, determined that, this time, the bullet would find its target, that the resulting wound would be fatal. He could see that Sophie's leg wound had crippled her, but it was not the sort of wound which killed, not unless it got infected and the three-day time limit meant he would have no time to wait for her to die from blood poisoning. No, he would have to finish the job he had started.

As he pulled the trigger, he saw Sophie close her eyes for what he thought would be the last time. But the sound which followed was not that of a gun firing, but that of a gun which had been completely emptied of bullets. And a quick look in his pack revealed that he had no spare ammunition left. "Shit!" he yelled, throwing aside his now useless gun. Very well - he would just have to use one of the weapons he had scavenged. And he would make sure they did what they were designed to do.

Sophie, sensing that she had been reprieved, opened her eyes to find Joseph holding a bow with an arrow fitted to the string. It was the same bow which had originally been in Adam's pack, but which had, for most of this sick game, been carried by Benita.

* * *

The sight of Joseph preparing to kill her with what she thought of as Benita's weapon (though Benita's pack had originally contained a cricket ball) caused something to snap in Sophie. It was almost too sick to be true. He must have come across the bodies of Aidan and Benita and decided to take the bow and arrows as a back-up weapon. And he must have done it knowing he would (if he ran out of bullets) have to use the bow and arrows against her, against Benita's best friend. It was almost as if he was taunting her, brandishing them in her face and saying: "See these? Well, I took them from the body of your friend - and now I'm going to kill you with them!"

Of course, he didn't actually say anything. But the mere thought that he was prepared to kill her with the weapon which he had taken from Benita's body was enough to push Sophie over the edge. Though his "inheriting" the bow and arrows was no different from her taking the gun she now held from Lauren's dead hand, she felt as though he had deliberately taken this particular weapon in order to torment her with them. It was as if he had violated her memories of thirteen years of friendship, as if he was the one who had killed Benita. The fact that it had been Aidan who was responsible made no difference.

As Joseph drew back on the bowstring, Sophie aimed her gun at him and pulled the trigger. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! The shots rang out as she fired bullet after bullet into his chest and stomach, her mind focused solely on the thought that he must die, that he deserved every bullet she was firing at him. Joseph, his shirt drenched in his own blood, fell to the ground as the world around him began to grow dim; he was only vaguely aware of Sophie standing over him, pointing her gun at his head. Sophie knew Joseph was almost certainly dying, but she wanted to make absolutely sure. Without saying a word, she pulled the trigger one last time and fired a single bullet directly into his brain. His head snapped back and he lay still, the thirty-fifth student to die in this twisted game.

Seconds later, as Sophie stood over the body of her adversary, Osborne's voice was heard, projected all over a village now littered with corpses; there were seven in the vicinity of the church alone. "Well, it looks as though we have our final kill. The current time is 5:23 PM, which means forty-four hours and thirteen minutes have elapsed since the Program began. And I can now confirm the last four deaths." Osborne proceeded to read out the names in the same indifferent tone he had used on previous occasions. "Boy #1: Aidan Jeffries, Girl #3: Abigail Wells, Boy #18: Joseph Walker and Girl #18: Benita Wright." Sophie felt a pang of grief as she heard the last name, but she had no time to dwell on it as Osborne's announcement continued.

"Girl #11: Sophie Clarke, you are the winner of this year's Program. Listen carefully to the following instructions and follow them precisely. All forbidden zones are now being deactivated, which means you can enter them safely. However, you will still not be able to go beyond the boundaries defined on your map, so you must report to the village hall to have your collar removed. You are to do this immediately and you must leave all weapons behind."

Sophie had a feeling she knew why Osborne didn't want her to bring any weapons with her; it must be a security measure to prevent the Program instructor from being attacked. Precise details about each Program were not released to the general public, but, given what she had been through lately, she wouldn't be at all surprised if winning students had attempted to kill the instructor in the past. After all, the instructor was the one who had forced them to kill their classmates . . . But, knowing she had no choice but to obey, she placed her gun on the ground, then opened her pack and took out the cutlass she had received at the start. She looked at it for a moment, before tossing it aside.

* * *

Unarmed, Sophie headed in the direction of the village hall, limping from the bullet wound in her leg. The faces of her dead classmates began to appear in her mind as though on an endless loop; each of them appeared for a few seconds before being replaced by one of the others. There was no set pattern - the faces just seemed to appear at random. She saw Lana and Eleanor, who had burned to death; Deepak, the keen skateboarder; Christina, who had been prone to hysteria; Kieran, the only one of the students brave (or foolish) enough to speak out against the Program . . . She saw all of them, including Benita, the girl who had been her best friend for thirteen years, but who was now just a memory.

The first time she entered a former forbidden zone, she half-expected the collar around her neck to explode. When it didn't - clearly she had grown too accustomed to avoiding the forbidden zones - she let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding and took stock of her surroundings. She was in Zone 4, the zone which contained the village school, the zone where Kieran had died. The windows which had broken when he triggered the explosives in his collar were still visible; they would not be repaired until the Government's clean-up team came to remove the bodies and repair any damage to buildings and contents which the students had caused. Only then would the village's residents be allowed to return home.

For now, though, Sophie was the only living thing in the village, aside from Osborne and his men in the village hall. The entire population, human and animal, had been forced to leave. According to her map, Zone 36 contained chicken sheds, but she had never heard any of the sounds associated with chickens. However, that was the last thing on her mind right now; all she wanted was to get that wretched collar off so that she could get out of here.

Reaching the recreation green, she saw two shapes on the ground. Lauren and Michael, 11G's Number One Couple, still lying where they had fallen - she did not have go near them to know what she had seen. They had, she recalled, been the first students to die in the Program, at least one of them having committed suicide. And, over the next couple of days, thirty-three of their classmates had joined them until only Sophie was left alive.

* * *

Before long, Sophie was in the village hall, stripped to her underwear as a precaution against concealed weapons, having her collar removed. She felt an immense sense of relief as the metal band was unfastened from around her neck, finally freeing her from the Program. The woman who had removed the collar then handed her a bathrobe and told her to put it on. "Osborne will be here soon to debrief you," the woman said shortly, before leaving the room without looking back.

Osborne was the last person Sophie wanted to see right now; he was the one who had co-ordinated this sick game which had cost the lives of all her classmates. But, minutes after the woman had left, the door opened and in he walked. He looked exactly as she remembered him, right down to the thin lips which looked as though they had never been crossed by a sincere smile.

"Good evening, Sophie," he said, reaching out to shake her hand.

The very thought of touching him revolted her, but she forced herself to take the hand he offered, though she let it go as soon as she could. "Good evening."

That was all the small talk which occurred before Osborne got down to business. "Right, I'm sure you're wondering what's going to happen to you now. Well, I'll tell you. The same thing which happens to all the students who win the Program."

"Which is?" Sophie felt an edge of fear creep into her voice. No-one really knew what happened to those who survived the Program, other than that their names were announced on the news and they received a guaranteed income for life. But, knowing the Government, it was not going to be as straightforward as that; there were bound to be a few strings attached. She was right.

"For now," Osborne replied, "you will be transferred to a place where your injuries can be treated. In the long term, however, you and your family will be moved to another town and you will complete your education at another school. In addition, you must never speak to anyone of what happened here and you must never mention your former classmates again. Forget them - they're gone."

Sophie looked at him in disbelief. As if what she had been through recently wasn't bad enough, she was now being asked to act like it never happened, like the thirty-five students who had died in this Program had never even existed. How could she pretend the thirteen years of friendship she and Benita had shared never happened? Surely even a Government official like Osborne couldn't be that unfeeling. Even though she knew how dangerous opposing the Government could be, she opened her mouth to object, but Osborne promptly forestalled her.

"I think you'll find it's in your best interests to agree to these terms. After all, the whole purpose of importing the Program was to instill obedience into the Republic's young people. So I suggest you be sensible about it, because you know what happens to those who disobey the Government . . ."

Sophie knew exactly what he meant. If she refused to agree to his terms, the same (non-negotiable) terms given to all those who survived the Program, she would be labelled a traitor. And that would mean her life wouldn't be worth living - if she was allowed the privilege of a life at all. So, knowing she had no choice in the matter, she sighed and said: "Very well, I'll do as you say."

Osborne smiled approvingly. "A sensible decision. And now I must arrange for our transport out of here."


	19. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Students remaining: 1_

One year later . . .

With her cat, Beauty, curled up on the sofa beside her, Sophie flicked over the channel on the TV. When she saw that she had switched to the news, a programme she had never taken a great deal of interest in, she was about to switch back when she caught a little of what the newsreader was saying.

". . . which consisted of fifteen boys and sixteen girls. The winner, who emerged after fifty-one hours and eleven minutes, was Boy #6: Gilles Delacroix." As a photograph showing a handsome dark-haired boy was flashed up, Sophie needed no-one to tell her that this was the news report announcing the end of another Program. The same report was broadcast every year, in exactly the same format; only the names and numbers ever differed. This year, it had been the turn of the Gallic State to send a class, though Sophie had not caught the name of the school involved.

Though there had been fewer students in the chosen class than last year, this Program had taken longer to resolve. And, now, the annual ritual of showing the dead students' pictures was beginning. To a soundtrack of sombre classical music, their faces were projected onto the screen, accompanied by a caption stating how each of them had died. At the same time, the newsreader read off each of their names in the kind of matter-of-fact tone which Sophie would always associate with Osborne.

"Boy #1: Marc Leblanc." A picture of a fair-haired boy in a white t-shirt appeared, bearing the caption: _Gunshot wound_. "Girl #1: Stephanie Piaget." A girl with long auburn hair, whose caption read: _Drowning_. "Boy #2: Thierry Paul." The next picture showed a boy with slightly messy brown hair, accompanied by a caption which said: _Decapitation_. "Girl #2: Mimi Chirac." The caption accompanying the picture of the dark-haired girl who used to be Mimi read: _Caught in forbidden zone_. The same fate which had befallen Shane last year . . .

Sophie paid no attention to the next few faces; she was wondering how Mimi had come to die in the way she had. Had she, like Shane, used a forbidden zone (or a zone that was about to become forbidden) as a means of committing suicide? Had she simply misjudged her location and paid the ultimate price? Or, worse, had one of her fellow students deliberately tricked her? It wouldn't surprise Sophie if it was the latter; after what she had been through last year, she knew people were capable of virtually anything if they were desperate enough to ensure their own survival.

Though she had seen this report every year for as long as she could remember, it had never made much impression on her before. True, it involved kids who had been forced to fight and, in most cases, die in the Government's sick game, but they had always been kids she didn't know personally. Now, however, she knew something of what these thirty-one students must have been through, the fear they must have felt, the knowledge that thirty of them were going to die and there was nothing they could do about it. By the time the last dead student - "Girl #16: Monique Dubois" - appeared on the screen, accompanied by a caption which read: _Stab wounds_, Sophie found herself imagining what Gilles must be going through right now.

She had never known him, but she could clearly remember how difficult the past year had been for her. Not only had she lost all her former classmates, including her best friend, she and her family had been forced to move to a new town and make a fresh start. That in itself wasn't too bad, but she had been ordered never to mention any of the students who had died in last year's Program again. She was supposed to act like nothing had happened, so she had not even been able to grieve openly for Benita. No-one had told her what would happen to her if she ever broke her silence, but she had a feeling it would not be pleasant.

So she kept quiet and tried to get on with her life. But it wasn't easy; there were always little things which reminded her of Benita. A small teddy bear similar to one Benita had owned, seeing a film on TV that they had been to see at the cinema, a top which Benita would have loved . . . Even the fact that she had been on a couple of dates with one of the boys from her new school made Sophie think of how she and Benita used to compare notes on boys they fancied. But not any more; Benita was dead and, though she had made one or two new friends, Sophie doubted she would ever be as close to them. There was no way she could replicate a friendship she had known since early childhood.

Now, she found herself wondering if Gilles was going through something similar. Had he also lost someone close to him in the Program? If so, was that person his best friend or someone he had know more intimately? Either way, he would now have to spend the rest of his life pretending he had never known them, never speaking of them openly. And, she knew from experience, it would make no difference how long he had known them. The surviving student from each Program had to make a clean break and that meant they had to forget about their dead classmates.

But Sophie had not forgotten, at least not about Benita. She still had her pendant from the pair she and Benita had shared, the one with _Friends Forever_ etched into the silver, tucked away in the bottom of her jewellery box. She had not worn it since the Program, but had kept it to remind her that, while the Government might order her to forget Benita, they could not control her memory. Every night, she took the pendant out and looked at it, remembering the thirteen years of friendship she and Benita had shared.

It was the only means she had of rebelling against the Government.


End file.
